The Marauding Demigods
by LostHeroGuide
Summary: It's the Golden Age of Piracy, and Annabeth Chase was a professional. A true Pirate with reputation to spare. That all ended when Percy Jackson appeared. Now, he has to set things right. But how could the British Navy not take advantage of this? Pirate!AU. (Some Demigod stuff in here...) Percabeth.
1. The Thief

**Hey guys! So, started this back when I was first writing, and the beginning is a bit rough, but I've been focusing on making it a bit more accurate. Mind you, it's a LostHeroGuide story, so it isn't going to be 100% accurate.**

 **It's a Pirate!AU, and it was really fun to write. I expect a lot of chapters from this, and I'll try to do better at updating. But anyways, Read and Review, tell me what you liked and what you didn't. I love that you guys are good with telling me what you actually like.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy** ** _The Marauding Demigods!_**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

Annabeth Chase didn't really know what to make of it. At all.

It's not like it'd never happened before. Other pirates were quick to attack when they see the _Athena_ is only crewed by women. They figure that no one couldn't possibly lose a fight against Annabeth and her crew.

 _Athena: 17_

 _Guest: 0_

So yes, their ship had been boarded, rammed, shot at and even partially destroyed. But never, not even once has an enemy pirate gotten off of her ship with a single gold coin.

Not until now, at least.

It was night in the Caribbean. The moon was full, giving off just enough light to sail by, though they weren't using it. The wind had dropped to but a lingering breeze that sent miniscule waves gently caressing the hull of the beautiful grey ship. The cove they sat at was merely a collection of islands and beaches, a treasure trove for pirates escaping royal fleets in the maze like structure.

Usually on nights like this Annabeth was quick to bring in a late haul. Trading was upping the ante, meaning larger ships and fewer to no royal guard. It was simply picking out a ship in the distance that fit the description of what they were looking for.

But tonight was not like most nights. Firstly, they had scored in a major bounty earlier that day, and with the royal fleet scouring the coasts for pirates they couldn't sell at any of the normal, neutrally controlled ports. Secondly, it was Hazel's birthday.

A party was in full swing on deck, full of laughter and dancing, stories of times before pirating. Some were bitter and others spoke of better days. Everyone however was in a good mood. Lights hung from the masts, strung between them like the Chinese lanterns they'd seen in Singapore. The mead and rum were brought out by the keg, and drunk just as fast.

"Annabeth, stop looking towards your quarters! You can get back to your charts later!" Thalia laughed, walking between crewmates to get to her best friend and captain. Annabeth kept her longing gaze towards her rooms. She loved the celebrations, it was just a bit too much for her. She longed for the warmth of her bed.

"Annabeth!" Thalia yelled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You need to loosen up! It's not everyday our little girl finally reaches eighteen!" She jested. From somewhere close by, Hazel squeaked indignantly.

"Stop calling me little!" She pouted. Another round of laughter erupted and Thalia's attention drifted elsewhere. But when she looked back, she noticed Annabeth's tentative step towards the map room.

"Annabeth!" She reprimanded. The blonde in question cast her a withering glare.

"Urg! I need to make sure that the port will be open tomorrow in Rasp Shanty. If the armada is docking there-"

"Check later." Thalia said, sounding more sober than before. "One night, Annabeth. Then I'll even help you go through the charts and letters myself." She promised. Annabeth raised an eyebrow, because the last time Thalia helped Annabeth couldn't find anything for a week. "I promise _not_ to help you, then." She amended.

Annabeth finally consented. She took a sip of her wine, deciding a headache tomorrow would not be wise for going into port. The men hardly ever wanted to bargain with her in the first place. If she was hungover they might think less of her. "Fine. But as soon as Hazel declares it over-"

She didn't get to finish as Thalia pulled her into the crowd, letting the festivities wash away any sense of time or direction she had. Eventually she knew Thalia would be too tipsy to even walk straight at the rate she was drinking, so she decided to let her guard down for an hour or two.

Big mistake.

She saw first the way one of her crew who was talking with a crewmate suddenly stopped, looking suspiciously towards the port side. Annabeth, watching from her friend's drunken embrace, could only watch as her crewmate wandered over towards the stairs there, heading below deck.

 _It's probably nothing._ She thought, taking another sip of wine. And for a few minutes Annabeth didn't give it another thought.

Then she realized that she couldn't find the crewmate.

Only then did the alarm bells begin to ring. Thalia frowned, noticing her friend's frown. "What's wrong?" She asked.

A million thoughts began to go through her head before she finally settled it within herself. "Grab Lucy and Gwen and check the haul... I think someone is onboard." She whispered. Thalia, suddenly sober, did as she was told.

Annabeth began to saunter over towards the port side railing, unsure of what she was looking for. She ran her hand over the sea dried, polished wood. Then she frowned.

There was a rope. A rope that didn't attach to anywhere.

Too late.

"Stop! Thief!" Thalia yelled. Annabeth spun on the heel of her boot, her eyes widening in realization. Too late, she realized what was happening.

He was in all black, a shadow had Thalia not been on alert. His tri point hat set firmly on his head and a blue bandana around his mouth and nose. His coat went to his knees, hugging his breeches and boots. Annabeth could vaguely see the flintlocks he kept on his belt, along with a cutlass.

Annabeth had exactly two seconds to observe him before he ran straight into her.

They both fell to the deck, facing each other. His head hit the railing with an audible ' _crack!'_ But otherwise he seemed fine. Annabeth finally noticed the most important detail. He had in his hand a bag of whatever he must've taken from the ship's stores.

And now it sat between Annabeth and him.

She came to her senses, leaning forward to snatch the bag from him before he could put another hand on it, but he was too quick. He took it in one fluid movement, at the same time drawing his flintlock, aiming at her skull.

A whale could breach right beside them and the crew wouldn't have blinked. Never, not once, had they seen their captain at such mercy as to this man, this boy. And yet no one knew, she'd faced this position before, with her own blood.

She guessed he might've been grinning under his mask as he stood and tipped his hat with the hand holding the bag of loot. "Ma'am." He said in a calm tone. "I'm afraid that I must take my leave. Don't stop the party on my account." He said.

Then he jumped, and only Annabeth knew he'd somehow caught the rope and slid down to what she guessed was some sort of boat.

The crew erupted into action all at once. Some reached for weapons. A few wielded bottles and began to throw them after the mystery thief. Annabeth stood and drew her own flintlock, aiming and firing towards- yep -the retreating ten foot skiff now slowly making its way towards the shallows between the two nearest islands.

Thalia cursed, then began to bark orders. "Hold your fire! He's already gone!" She grumbled, pushing a few crewmates away from the railing. Everyone began to protest at once.

"Enough!" Annabeth finally yelled, startling the crew into silence. "Prepare the ship to follow after him. I want this ship set to sail in an hour, you hear me?" She barked. "Follow after him. Now."

The crew burst into action, orders now given. A few among them, such as Hazel and Gwen, began to immediately task out the other girls to their roles. Thalia followed after her captain. "We can't follow him into the shallows."

"I know." Annabeth said, already in her chart room. She laid the map of the island maze out in front of her, tracing currents and routes.

"He's got a head start, and a few dozen places to hide in." She argued. Annabeth sent her a stern look. She was well aware of their situation.

"Yes, yes he does." She said.

Thalia sighed. "But we aren't letting him get away?"

"No. No we aren't."

...

Three days.

Several possible sightings and one confirmed one from between an archway that only the girl in the crow's nest could claim to see through. She might've just been eager, seeing as they couldn't see him after that.

But Annabeth understood he was a slippery one. A desperate, slippery one at that. To steal from the _Athena?_ Bad call.

Annabeth was quick to compare the possible sightings and decide where he must be going. She put a pin in the name of the port. "Fort Brigham." She said triumphantly. "He's going to re meet with his ship and crew, then sell all of our gold."

Thalia frowned. After an extensive search, they'd determined he'd stolen enough to line his pockets quite handsomely. He couldn't be allowed to reach the Fort.

"What do you suppose we do?" Thalia asked, looking at the maze of pins Annabeth had placed intricately on the map. Some had papers marking dates and times.

Annabeth pointed to a small cove directly across from the Fort. She smirked evilly. "He was stupid to think we wouldn't see he was leading us in the wrong direction." She said. "We do what we do best." She said. "Eh pirate?"

...

"I see him!" The girl, Lacey, yelled from the crow's nest. "He's just reached the bend in the cove, captain!"

Annabeth nodded in satisfaction as she saw the skiff in the distance. It had a single bluish-black sail, and as expected, she was running the black flag. "What's on the flag?" Annabeth called up towards the crows nest.

The girl squinted through her telescope. "A trident running through a skull, captain. Never seen anything like it before." She answered. Annabeth thought that sounded vaguely familiar, but dismissed it for later.

"Cut him off before he reaches the shallows, muskets drawn. I want him alive." She said, her teeth gritted. Thalia smiled, then began relaying orders to the rest of the crew.

 **Percy:**

Percy knew he was caught the second the _Athena_ appeared around the bend. He should've known that they were smart enough to figure him out. He'd treated them like kingsmen and royal ships when he should've treated them like fellow pirates. Women or no.

So yes, judging by angles and the current wind, he knew they would cut him off and he'd be caught.

Then again, they didn't know Perseus Jackson.

Even as they appeared Percy was calm in turning his ship around. He snickered at the thought of that blonde lass seeing him turn rudder to run. Probably scoffing and thinking he wasn't really trying to run.

But he was.

Percy grew up in a skiff, in this very maze of islands. He knew them as well as the sands on the shore knew what a wave was. So even as his sail dropped with no more wind to push it, he smiled.

He placed the oars in their places, then began to hum a shanty to row to. Granted, when he saw the grey hull gaining on him he began to hum just a bit faster, but he was not panicking. He began to graze lightly against the sheer cliff wall he'd been keeping to his far right, but now was an oars distance to his left.

He noticed the hull of the _Athena_ on his right now, slowly trying to overtake him. And they were good. Percy could hear the captain's orders being given as he rowed. Apparently he was wanted alive, and they were going to cut him off as he reached the edge of the cliff. He smiled. Perfect.

Even as they began to pass him Percy could hear the echo of musket fire and the chipping of rock as the rounds bounced off the cliff wall. Satisfied he was still safe, Percy got off the oars, stowing them away. Then, as quickly as possible, he stowed the sail and took the mast out of the mast lock, stowing that as well.

Percy risked a glance towards the enemy ship and watched in amusement at the befuddled expression of the blonde captain. Percy smirked. She had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Percy had lost a lot of speed when he'd stowed the oars, and now the _Athena_ was far ahead of him. He could just row backwards and hope to turn and run to the Fort, but no. He was going to stick this out.

Percy took the oars once again, rowing at a steady pace towards the corner of the cliff wall. I'm fact, it looked like he was about to run into it. Percy heard the warning bells on the deck ringing, alerting the crew to this development.

Percy scratched the wall... And then the wall was gone.

Barely anyone knew about the shelf only seven or so feet high under the cliff. The waters around the Fort were full of sharks that had the nastiest of demeanors, so no one would risk a swim.

Besides a twelve year old Percy, of course.

The shelf was only visible at low tide, and he really only had a few hours, but he'd bought himself some time.

And so, under the cool shade the overhang had to offer, he waited.

 **Annabeth:**

"I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before." Annabeth admitted. She'd watched as the thief had disappeared under the overhang, and she couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief. A gutsy move. Something even some of the most fearless pirates wouldn't have done, had they even known.

"What are your orders, captain? The women wish to pursue the thief, but we have the goods to think about." Thalia said, and Annabeth knew she was right. They couldn't leave the supplies they'd raided any longer, some of the goods being perishable. They had to sell them _now._

"What should we do?" Thalia asked. Annabeth bit her lip. She wasn't going to let this thief get away, she decided.

"Thalia, I want you to use that silver tongue of yours and get to shore on the row boats. We'll sell the perishables here, at the Fort. After you're done get back to the _Athena_ and await my orders." She decided. Thalia smiled.

"Yes captain." She said.

As Thalia walked away, Annabeth put both hands on the railing, waiting in anticipation and looking towards the cliff where the thief had disappeared to. "Your move, captain." She muttered.

 **LHG :)**


	2. King and Country

**Hey Guys! So, I've been working on this story a lot, and although the first few chapters are a bit crappy, I can assure you the ones after this will be much better. As usual, I would love constructive criticism, and I'm going to try and make this a learning experience for all of us!**

 **Although I is kind, I is smart, and I is important, I am not Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 **Percy:**

Percy was running out of tide.

He'd had a short period of dozing on and off, without actual sleep. He'd rummaged through his knapsack and pulled out some cheese and bread, which he ate hungrily. He tucked the knapsack back under the seat and closed the panel, then thought worriedly about the more precious cargo he'd stored with the stolen loot. If they took that...

Now the tide had risen. From seven to four feet, Percy had to duck to not hit his head. He was running out of space, time, and patience.

The _Athena_ hadn't moved an inch, an anchor keeping it in place. They blocked out a large portion of the cliff, with barely any space to escape if he wanted- when he had to. The cliff would provide a shooting gallery, and he'd be unable to escape.

Then he thought about it, and decided he'd smile. Setting to work quickly, he started rowing towards the port side of his enemy.

...

"I can see Thalia coming back from the Fort." Hazel informed Annabeth. She nodded, smiling. Thalia was quick to sell, and always seemed to persuade the stall owners to buy a lot and sell to her cheap. Of course they were already on their way back.

"Good. I want the starboard ropes lowered. We should get the rowboats back in as soon as possible."

Hazel was about to reply but was cut off by the alarm bell ringing. "There he is! There he is!" Someone yelled, and a musket went off. Annabeth ran to watch and advise her crew.

The skiff began to slide along towards the front of her boat, and seemed to be making a break for it. Then Annabeth yelled out. "It's empty! No one on board!" She yelled. Hazel cursed. "He must've gone overboard and swam for it." She said.

They watched as the skiff began to drift out towards wherever the current would take it. By luck, it was going towards Thalia's vessel. "How did he do it? Where is he?" Hazel asked. Annabeth's mind raced towards possible answers.

"He might still be in the cave, cut off. Maybe he's trying his luck with swimming. I don't know-"

"I do." Hazel suddenly interrupted. She pointed towards the skiff. "He's back there!" She yelled.

Annabeth whipped her head to see that, yes, he was suddenly on his skiff. Annabeth cursed. A trick. A really sneaky trick. He must've been swimming beside it, or under some canvas. "Stop the skiff!" Annabeth yelled. "After him!"

As they started pulling up their port side anchor there was a sickening sound of metal against stone. The boat wouldn't budge. "He's tied the anchor to something!" Someone yelled.

"To what?" Annabeth yelled.

"...I'm pretty sure he tied it to the other anchor..." She said. Annabeth did a double take. She cast a glare towards the skiff, and then she stiffened. The boy was taking a bow.

...

Percy could _feel_ the heat of the glare that was directed towards him.

He turned and smirked, seeing the blonde captain looking at him from a distance. She must've not seen his stunt coming, hanging onto the bottom of the boat and letting the current push him towards freedom. He stood in his boat, admiring the handiwork and taking a bow. Tying the two anchor chains together would've made his father smile. Even while he was soaked, he smiled.

He heard a few musket shots, but none came close. Percy began attaching the mast and sails, hoping to disappear before they were the wiser.

Then he saw the three skiffs.

Sixteen feet, a dozen women to each. Percy's eyes widened in alarm as they rowed in sync, slowly gaining on him. Percy suddenly had no time to waste, tossing the rigging around until the sail was finally working. He tried to capture a breeze, or a current to further his speed.

He found nothing.

Percy cursed. He had no wind to sail with, and if he did it wouldn't help now. Three dozen women, no, Pirates were right behind him, nets at the ready to catch him in like a fish.

The first skiff pulled up alongside Percy, using their oars to pull their ships together. The second was to his left, and the third even farther left, attaching to their allies.

Percy had to move fast as they began to stand. He picked up an oar, swinging it from side to side and knocking a few off their boats. The splashes echoed across the channel, and their net fell in as well. "Get him!" Someone yelled. Percy recognized her as their first mate.

Percy held the oar in both his hands with the length going along the boat edges. He began to run forward, pushing even more of the off balance crew overboard. Soon, the first two skiffs were empty, their occupants in the water.

Percy was on the edge of the farthest skiff, a full boat in between his own and the one he was on. Worse still, twelve remaining crewmates were cautiously advancing on him, cutlasses drawn. The one at the head in the silver blouse and short hair held a cutlass like a true professional, which concerned Percy. The others he could take, but this one wasn't as wet behind the ears.

"Surrender, and we'll let you live... For now." She said, her eyes flashing dangerously. Percy had his own cutlass out, letting it flash in the sunlight. He smirked.

"I'd tell you the same, but seeing as I'm outnumbered... Actually, strike that." Percy jumped into action, kicking the nearest girl into the water. He swung around and gave one girl a decent sized cut on her arm. Then he punched two of them out cold. The fifth girl matched him with a sword briefly, but Percy eventually disarmed her and kicked her into a sixth girl.

Percy heard the flintlock being loaded and acted on instinct, throwing himself to the side of the boat. The remaining six were thrown off balance, and the shot went wide. Percy tripped one girl and ran past another, tripping her easily. Finally, he jumped onto his own ship, kicking away all the oar hooks and pushing himself out away from the two boats. Now it was just Percy and the girl on his boat. "I think I'll ask for your surrender still." He said, sword point at her throat.

The girl had her eyes narrowed, and Percy was still smiling. When she spoke, her voice was like a dagger. "I'll ask you to give yourself up. My captain won't give up until you're at the bottom of the ocean."

Percy hesitated for a second before sheathing his sword. "What's your name, Miss?" He asked.

"Thalia." She said cautiously. Percy began rummaging through his assortment of many things. Finally he pulled out an apple and began eating it. He was aware of the skiffs being remounted and the third being righted. The _Athena_ was starting to inch its way towards them.

"Well Thalia, I'm afraid that this is a 'take what you can, give nothing back' kind of thing. I only took what I needed, and now I'm going to disappear, right into the sunset." He suddenly smirked, thinking a glorious thought. Why not really, _really_ make it a game? Something about these people reminded him of the girls that he had grown up with. They were always up for a wager. "But if you can catch me. Find me, tie me up and all that, I'll give you everything I've taken. Deal?" He said.

Before she could respond he tripped her and sent her toppling into the sea. When she surfaced she was sputtering and cursing him. "Should I get a name from my Captain's challenger?"

He smiled, reseating and preparing his sail. "Percy Jackson, at your service."

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

Annabeth slammed her open palms onto the table in the chart room, her teeth gritted. Thalia stood in front of her, her clothes damp. "He said that?" She asked, her voice full of venom. How dare he do that to her crew, her first mate. That _delinquent._ How dare he?

"He said if we caught him we could have everything back." Thalia reminded her, and she scoffed.

"Would it be worth it? Days, maybe even weeks wasted, chasing after a boy who treats this all as a game! This _Percy Jackson_ will not waste my time!" She said, standing and making her way towards the deck. As she opened the doors she saw her hardworking crew pulling up the rowboats, some still damp from their unplanned swims.

Her gaze softened. "We were lucky, Thalia. He's obviously had his fair share out at sea. He was one, while we were numbered close to fifty. He _beat us._ How do we stand a chance?" Annabeth asked, looking towards her crew. They were lucky no one was killed.

Thalia put a hand on her captain's shoulder. "This is the Caribbean, Annabeth. We've spent a collective century in these waters. We've faced odds four to one against, and still you've come up with the plan." She reminded her. Thalia suddenly smiled. "All those years ago, when it was just you and I in a skiff just like Jackson's."

Annabeth smiled. "Goddesses, mermaids and sirens, trembling in our wake." She recited, recalling their old oath. Thalia laughed, reminded of the pact they'd made to each other on the skiff _Odyssey._

"Whether on the highest tide, or the lowest shallows, we, as women, declare our secession from those that have wronged us." She began.

"We shall not make the same mistake, as our fathers before us. We move back to the seas in search of betterment, hoping that we will find not only what we seek, but what we cannot yet think to see." Annabeth finished.

"We trust you, Annabeth." Thalia said. She gestured to the crew, already working on dousing the canvas. "All of us. Now let's go kick that upstart where he will not forget."

Annabeth nodded, checking the sun's position in the sky and smelling for any chance of a storm. She put her hair up into her large brimmed hat she usually wore. "You're right." She said, then began to march amongst the crew. "I want is sailing as soon as possible! Prepare your armaments! We're not done yet!" She yelled.

And to her great pleasure, the crew quickly yelled in agreement, working with a bit more spring in their step than before. Annabeth turned, readying her mind. If her head was full of seaweed, where would she hide?

...

It was all by accident that they found him.

Annabeth had been at the helm for two days, barely a single three hour break between them. Thalia argued that Annabeth wouldn't be functioning well with that much sleep, and Annabeth had waved it off. "As long as I can still kick him when we catch him." She'd replied.

Thalia had to remind her that Annabeth needed a good night's sleep to be able to do that, and finally Annabeth had relented. She asked to be woken in eight hours time, on the nose.

Instead she woke six hours later to the alarm bells.

She quickly dressed in a blouse and breeches, her boots reaching her knees. She put her sword and her flintlock on her belt. She tucked her hair under her hat at the last minute, then ran as quickly as she could to the deck... Just in time to hear the first explosion of a cannon. Luckily it was theirs, but it was enough for Annabeth to really check her surroundings.

They were on the open sea, any landmass now invisible to her eye. The day was at its dawn, the oranges appearing to the east.

But to the west was the real prize. Three battleships, armed to the teeth and flying the King's flag. Annabeth heard another chorus of cannon fire and watched as her crew engaged with the already advancing warships.

Annabeth reached the helm and took it from her yelling first mate. "What happened? Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" She demanded. Thalia held her palms out.

"Don't look at me! These three appeared out of nowhere, thirsting for blood." She explained.

"I didn't hear them fire." Annabeth said, eyebrow raised.

"Preemptive strike." Thalia explained. A chorus of gunfire came again from their ship, and Annabeth watched as men from the other ship ducked. Wood splintered and screams of the wounded reached her ears.

"We can't engage now! We're chasing after Jackson!" She yelled. Thalia handed her the telescope.

"Starboard side, right ship." She said. Annabeth checked the bearings. A ten foot skiff, a blue collapsed sail. Annabeth raised her eyebrows.

"They have him?" She asked, dumbfounded, rechecking. Thalia nodded, leaving it at that. Annabeth began scanning the decks for an officer. When she found one she grimaced. "It's Castellan." She said distastefully.

Thalia's eyebrows shot up, snatching the telescope. "The devil's spawn your father betrothed you to when you were twelve?" She asked in disgust. Annabeth nodded, scowling at the memory. Thalia studied the blonde hair and scar. "Huh. He really does look like he has an oar shoved up-"

Another round of cannon fire. Luke's ships seemed undeterred as the starboard side ship began to peel away and match its port side guns to the _Athena's._ Annabeth's confidence didn't waver at the two rows of gun decks. Annabeth could match that. But the flagship, the _Princess Andromeda,_ had three rows. It towered over the _Athena._

"Let's play this smart. We've faced two at a time before. Just keep out of reach of the long nines and hope we can get ourselves out of this mess with Jackson in our hands." She informed Thalia.

...

Annabeth was quick to take the helm, letting Thalia and Hazel call out their own orders on the cannons. Annabeth wasn't partial to the idea of letting an enemy get close enough for an accurate cannon shot, instead ducking in and out of range, delivering a deathly blow.

But they were facing three ships, not a single one. Vastly outnumbered and outgunned, the _Athena_ couldn't rely on a head on attack. They needed stealth. Quick, darting movements. It was a chess game that falling behind a single step might get your mast snapped and crew killed.

Annabeth enjoyed thinking of it like dancing. Your partner was either keeping up with you, or they would be stomped on.

And Luke Castellan was no dancer. He was at a seven year advantage to Annabeth, but she was the better Captain. Even as two ships began to flank her starboard and bow, she would slip between them leaving a wake of splintered wood and the sulfurous smell of gunpowder.

And for a full four hours, it was a dance. A dance that Annabeth kept herself three steps ahead.

The first of Luke's ships, the one holding Percy, had a snapped mast. A breach in her hull left water flooding in, tilting the ship dangerously. The _Princess Andromeda_ had to rush in and save her crew before the ship could sink.

And while that happened, the third ship had rushed onto Annabeth's port side, reengaging before her crew could finish off their allies. Now, over the sound of cannon fire, Thalia ran up to the helm, sweat on her brow.

"The Princess isn't going to give up. She's already on our tail." Annabeth cursed, checking behind her. Sure enough, she was coming up towards them, hardly a knick in her wood. And the third ship hadn't sunken! Annabeth squinted, looking between the two ships.

"They're going to try and catch us between them." Annabeth said. "A crossfire they don't want us to live through." She said.

"They won't get the chance." Thalia snarled.

And then a single massive _CRUNCH!_ echoed and reverberated through the hull of Annabeth's ship. Suddenly the _Athena_ was inching to port. When Annabeth tried to correct it, the ship wouldn't respond. Annabeth paled. "They hit the rudder." She said in horror.

Thalia was quick to action as she noticed the loss in speed. Their sails were no longer in the wind. They were drifting, dead in the water. "Prepare the cannons!" She yelled. The crew all began loading, some with wide eyes when they realized they were surrounded. But to Annabeth's pride, none of them looked scared. They all knew how it could end. They'd signed up for it.

And in the shadows of two royal vessels as they began to pass, Annabeth watched as her crew shouted defiantly, with the sound of cannons become a mere background noise. "Fire!" Annabeth screamed, her voice cracking on the word.

And as they shot, the two royals unleashed the wrath of the king.

* * *

 **Read and Review!**

 **LHG :)**


	3. A Rather Daring Escape

**Hey Guys! So, I've been putting a bit more focus into this story, and I want to say right now:**

 **THEY ARE _NOT_ GREEK OR ROMANDEMIGODS. **

**Now, proceed.**

 **I'm not Rick**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

A ringing in her ears.

That's what she remembered most about it. The sudden lack of noise, as if she'd gone deaf. When she opened her eyes, she'd wished she'd gone blind as well.

The fog and smoke from the cannons only let her see as far as the bow, but it was painful. Her beloved _Athena,_ the place she'd called home and the crew she called family, was now sinking.

The deck was sagging, and judging by the heat under her feet there was a fire below decks. Perhaps the gunpowder magazine had been hit and ignited. If it had, then the explosion was short-selled. She should be dead. The fact she couldn't move might've meant she was.

But slowly the feeling in her fingers returned, then her toes and so on. Eventually she stood on hands and knees, watching the carnage.

Her crew was being slaughtered. Fighting against two royal crews, but without any honorable man among them. They stood on the higher decks on the _Princess,_ using the high ground to fire round after round into her poor crew. One of her girls ran from below decks and was immediately gunned down, no offer of peace to be uttered.

And Annabeth wanted to die then. To die with her ship, and her crew. To die with her legacy. To not put up any fight and let a round penetrate her heart in the confusion. Her sense of hearing was returning, and she could hear the screams of pain and anguish coming from her dying crew. She wanted it to end.

Then suddenly she heard a very loud, long yell of pure defiance. Not from her ship, either. It came from Luke's, and it gave Annabeth reason to turn her head towards them.

Percy Jackson, soaking wet and bruised, stood on the railing of the _Princess Andromeda,_ sword raised and flintlock drawn. He had a nasty cut in his shoulder already, but raised his arm as if he couldn't feel the pain. His eyes were like green fire, ignited with pure rage. Without any warning he shot a sailor in the kneecap, and he crumpled to the deck. Warnings and yells echoed from the enemy crew as they tried to fight this mad pirate, who fought like a dozen men.

And with every stroke of his sword another man fell. When one of them began to turn his musket in his direction, Percy pulled out a dagger and whipped it in the man's direction. He fell, clutching at his throat and the knife that was now there.

And after his sixth kill, he cast a glance at Annabeth like _'Are you just going to lie there and take it?'_

She supposed not.

And so she stood, reaching for the nearest musket. And with the grace and technique only practice and courage can give you, she aimed and fired at the nearest redcoat. Perhaps it was desperation, or maybe adrenaline perfecting her aim. It hit him in the eye, killing him instantly.

And as if she were back on her father's farmland as the child holding a flintlock, she calmly reloaded and fired again. And again. And again.

By the time Annabeth was out of bullets, though, the railing was once again covered in the King's men, all of them with muskets trained on her. She couldn't see Percy anywhere and guessed he was probably dead. Judging by the angry looks of the redcoats, she would be joining him shortly.

"Hold your fire." Someone calmly directed from the _Princess Andromeda,_ and Annabeth's heart plummeted.

Luke Castellan strode calmly behind his musket line, leaving Annabeth to only catch glimpses of his face. The scarred side, unfortunately. As if his other side weren't bad enough. Annabeth noticed Thalia was still alive and nearly jumped in joy. Instead, they made their expressions unreadable as they formed a circle with the remaining women. A few held bandages to their bodies, but all held themselves proudly, and Annabeth wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

The sound of a board against Annabeth's deck sent a chill down her spine, but not as much as when she heard the heavy footfalls of redcoat troops crossing onto her ship.

Luke and his guard of six stood in unison, letting other redcoats board as well until they were all surrounded. The muskets above held firm aim, daring them to make a move. Soon, the girls were bound to the mast, or what was left of it. Luke walked around them, inspecting them like cattle or slaves. Hazel visibly flinched under his gaze, but held her ground.

When he'd stopped, he eyed each of them coldly. Finally, he spoke. "I never would've believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself." He mused aloud in a sarcastic voice. His crew started chuckling. "The cursed ship, made of grey, rotting wood, Captained by a goddess." He said, making his crew laugh harder. He himself laughed at his own jest.

He put his palms up expectantly. "Pray tell, which 'goddess' among you is Captain?" He asked, smiling cruelly. The crew broke into another fit of laughter, then Annabeth threw herself forward and marched right up to the Admiral.

She had a small inkling of satisfaction when Luke's smile dropped off of his face. As she stood in front of her crew, expectantly waiting for him to make a first move, she steeled herself for whatever might happen. All the muskets were trained on her. She held her breath in anticipation.

And then Luke slapped her. Her head whipped to the right as the audible smack travelled across the deck, causing her crew to protest and fight their restraints. Luke's men held them back as he gave her a look of pure loathing.

"Annabeth Chase." He said crisply.

She didn't say anything, instead backing up towards the rest of her crew. He looked between them and her, his anger burning hotter in the pit of his stomach. "Throwing in your lot with these... _Runaway brides."_ He said disdainfully. He noticed Thalia and Hazel as they went to Annabeth's side. "My mistake. Runaway brides and slave girls."

Thalia jumped to claw Luke's face, but one of his men stepped up and slammed his flintlock into her jaw. She fell to the deck, as if dead. Hazel was at her side immediately, checking to make sure she was okay. But as she knelt to help, she suffered the same fate. A rifle butt to the back of the head and she was out.

"No!" Annabeth yelled, going to help herself. But Luke caught her arm and made her face him. His sneer was the purest form of aggression he could give.

"You were once to marry me." He said through gritted teeth. "You shall marry me still."

Annabeth squirmed in defiance, but three more redcoats kept her still. Luke cast a disgusted glance at the other women. "Leave their ship be. We will let the sea wash away its impurities." He said in utter revulsion.

Annabeth screamed, trying desperately to get back to her crew, her family. But as she struggled more, the sailors became impatient. She felt a sharp pain at the top of her skull, then she saw blackness.

...

Annabeth had woken just in time to see the _Athena_ begin to sink.

She'd heard the desperate cries of her crew and watched as Luke had fired cannon after cannon into her hull, effectively sinking it. Annabeth hadn't shed a single tear, in fear that Luke would use it to gain leverage over her.

And when her ship had disappeared, her graceful, goddess like masthead sinking below the waves, Luke had taken pity on her and put her in a cell. She noticed none of the others occupied, and wondered vaguely whether Percy Jackson was dead or not.

She was just about to fall asleep when there was a loud screech of metal on wood, and Luke appeared.

She sat with her back to the porthole, letting the sun warm her face and neck. She kept her expression blank when she spoke, trying to sound as unladylike as possible. "No dinner?" She asked.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid we've had poor planning on rations. You will have to go without until we reach James Port." He said stiffly, not sounding sorry at all. Annabeth glared, knowing full well they'd stolen everything off of her ship before sinking it. They arrive in port and make quite a shiny penny as well.

"Your father will be eager to hear of your return." Luke said, taking a seat on the nearest barrel. Annabeth gripped the wooden stool in her cell tightly.

"You mean the horrible man that insisted I marry a man as twisted and corrupt as you?" She drawled, crossing her arms. Luke stood, annoyed.

"I serve the king, you cow. No other man lines my pockets besides him, and the insubordinate pirates I righteously recover goods from." He said.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Not what I was talking about, Luke." She said, noticing his eyes going a bit south of her neck line. He scoffed, sitting again.

"There shall be no consequence. Your father will have you marry me, or you shall be hung for piracy."

"Then proudly to the gallows I go." She said smugly, although her heart beat faster at the thought. "And when I'm gone, you will find your own ship cursed." She said.

"You are the curse, my dear Anna. And when you're dead, I shall sleep easier." He said.

"I've haunted your nightmares for ten years?" She asked sarcastically. "How quaint. I suppose I can even leave this world, knowing that I shall still haunt you in the world to come." She jested, laughing to herself. When she looked up, he was brooding.

As she watched, he stood and leaned forward towards the bars. "When you marry me- and you _will_ marry me -I will take joy in killing you myself." He whispered in the calmest tone he could.

Annabeth spit on his face, causing him to recoil and curse, wiping it off. When he was done she was glaring menacingly. "Open the cell, Luke. I _beg_ you." She said threateningly.

Luke almost, _almost_ took the bait, going as far as to reach for the keys on his belt. He stopped however, as Annabeth gave herself away, eying the keys desperately. "A good try." He said. "But don't think you can outsmart me, Anna. You are nothing but a _pathetic, stubborn wench."_

And with that he left Annabeth, cold and alone in the dark.

* * *

Annabeth was moved to another cell.

They reached James Port three days after her talk with Luke. She had to spend the time in her cell, a leak causing her clothes to forever be damp. They gave her a stale or moldy piece of bread (she couldn't tell in the dark) on the second day. She had to improvise her water, running it through barrels and buckets. It's taste was bitter, but it kept her alive.

Some of the crew insisted on seeing her, 'talking' about their friends that had been on the other end of her musket. Most of these talks were accompanied with fists.

That was the reason she didn't have the strength to fight back as they opened her cell door, and one of the sailors decided to punch her gut and whispering with breath soured by alcohol. "Don't even think about it, _pirate."_

She had to be driven to her cell on the island where the port was, tossed into a carriage and brutally shoved into a cell with unnecessary force. Annabeth, as tired and weak as she was, rolled her eyes at their handling. Brutality for brutalities sake.

She didn't have any visitors the first day, but on the second her father showed his face.

She'd been curled up on the floor, trying to give her restless mind a reprieve when the doors to the outside hall opened. She vaguely heard someone talking to the guard outside her cell, then her door was opened.

Had the bars not separated her and her father, he might've began to ring her neck. _She_ probably would've rung _his_ neck. "You've gotten fatter." She commented idly. "Reminds me of a pig I saw. It won in the festival two years ago, at the Coves." She began.

He simply glared, his white wig resting ridiculously on his head. Annabeth remembered stealing it once when she was ten. The first time she'd been hit. Not the last.

"When the captain of the guard informed me that my daughter was in prison, I replied that I had no daughter." He said. She stared blankly at him, showing no emotion. "But I wanted to be sure, even if it meant killing you myself." He said venomously.

Annabeth's glare matched her father's, unimpressed by the threat. "You weren't wrong. That meek, submissive, cowardly little girl is gone." She said, measuring her words. "She no longer answers to you, or to any other that believes he owns me."

They stood in silence for a few moments before her father spoke. "I've decided not to give my blessing to Luke. You are to be hung in the morning, as well as you're disownment has been made public." He informed her.

"Why?"

He turned in anger and slammed his hands against the bars, showing his true emotions. "Because you are my greatest embarrassment." He said. "Like a mosquito constantly pricking at my skin. I had everyone convinced you had died, stupidly trying to swim during a storm." He grit. "And now they know. They _all_ know my daughter decided to play dress up on the ocean, stealing and pillaging from ships!"

"Only yours, father." She replied. His face went red, his grip tightening on the bars of the cell as if he were the one on the inside, being accused.

When his anger had subsided, he retreated away from the cell doors, towards the wooden one that led to the outside. To the ocean. To freedom. "When you are dead, I'll have the maids write your eulogy." He said.

With those final words, he left.

...

When the wooden door opened as quietly as it did, she expected a guard or other form of pervert trying something. She braced herself, deciding that maybe she could escape if she tried hard enough to get away.

Then the pistol went off.

Annabeth jumped up in shock, ready to dodge the next shot when she realized the lock was no longer on the door. There was a single metal ball lodged in it, and a single arm hidden in the shadows with the flintlock raised, smoke curling from the barrel.

When Percy Jackson stepped into the light and opened the door, Annabeth couldn't comprehend what was happening. Her thought process couldn't match what her brain had already concluded. "You're supposed to be dead!" She said a raspy, water deprived voice. His face was grim when he spoke.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but it looks to me like you could use a hand." He said, reaching his hand out for her to take. Her small frail arm met his and he pulled her to her feet. Her ankles and legs screamed in protest, and on her first step she would've fallen had Percy not been right there. He noticed the fragile state she was in. "Can you make it to my skiff?" He asked.

She began to nod yes, thinking what a stupid question it was, but then her stomach flipped and she started retching. Percy did her the kindness of holding her hair back as she relieved her stomach of anything that might've been left there. Her ribs felt like they'd been broken (no doubt some were) and that only added to the pain.

He held her weight while she leaned on him, and they began to slowly leave the prison. They passed the unconscious guard, and Percy glanced down at her worriedly. He grunted. "It would be faster if I carried you." He pointed out, already deciding he hated this method. Annabeth stayed silent. When they reached outside, she caught her breath.

The cobblestone path was still there, leading into town. The palm trees swaying beautifully, being persuaded by the gentle sea breeze. The port was full of ships, an intricate maze of them with boards running between decks. The moon shone above, reflecting off the waves and beaches. Birds and other animals mixed with the noises of insects chirping in the distance.

"Beautiful." She muttered, then winced. Percy cast his own eyes around the scenery, then glanced at the prison.

"Let's get out of here and admire it from a distance." He decided. He helped her take a few more steps, even pulling out a blanket from the sack thrown across his back and wrapping it around her form.

They made it into the town when the first bell began to ring. Suddenly there was a mass of shouting and Percy cursed, trying to help Annabeth go faster. She yelped when her ribs shifted.

"We have to hurry." He muttered, then pulled her into his arms before she could protest. He bounced along, and although Annabeth wanted to scream, she just clung to his shirt and bit her cheek. He started taking smaller streets, even ducking behind a stall when a British patrol stomped down the road. The closer they got to the beach the more soldiers there were. Annabeth was certain they'd be caught and he'd join her on the gallows.

"There's my ship." He said, and Annabeth turned her head towards the direction he'd been pointing. She did a double take, realizing where his skiff was.

"You put it right next to the _Princess Andromeda?!_ You idiot!" She said, smacking his chest. "He probably knows you're here!" She warned.

Percy smiled. "Luke has been chasing me for _years._ I've done this twice and he hadn't bat an eye. He's too busy keeping his eyes forward to look down at the _lesser people._ " He said in the Admiral's accent. Annabeth didn't crack a smile.

"He can't be that stupid." She said. Percy ignored her, trying to be careful jumping down to the beach. He landed on his feet, and Annabeth tried not to cry out in pain. As they approached his skiff, Annabeth saw that Luke's ship wasn't even guarded. _Idiots. The both of them_ , she thought.

Percy laid her gently onto the skiff, then threw his sack at her feet. While he busied readying to push them off the shore, she curiously peeked into the bag and gasped. Jewels. Gold. A picture of her and her mother, something she'd neglected to pack when she was twelve. Along with some gold she recognized with her father's seal on them. "You went into my father's house?" She asked.

He pushed them out and started to get the oars ready. He sent her a triumphant grin. "Didn't know it at the time, but yes. I stole from him. Along with a few things from Castellan." He said, casually flipping a tarp off the deck of his skiff. A few muskets, flintlocks, some rope, and even a uniform was neatly wrapped away. Ammunition sat beside that in boxes.

Annabeth shook her head in disbelief. "What else did you do?" She asked. Percy had a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You'll see." He said vaguely.

Percy started rowing towards the mouth of the port, towards the maze of merchant ships. Percy took the blanket from around her and held it out flat to her. "Put it over you." He ordered, and she did so without complaint.

The cloth wasn't thick enough to block out her vision. As they began passing between the first few ships, lights danced in front of her eyes. Music played from each ship, and the sound of boots on wood and laughter echoed around me, mixing with the rhythmic sound of oars paddling through the water.

Annabeth was glad that she was at least somewhat comfortable while lying down. She was finally able to think without the constant pain in her ribs. And the first question hit her like a ship's hull.

 _Why is Percy Jackson rescuing her from the gallows?_

Even for a sleep/food/health deprived Annabeth Chase, this was an oversight.

Annabeth checked for anything, anyone she might know who could or would hire Percy to kill her. Her father had no idea who he was ( _she_ didn't even really know who he was). Luke... Luke knew him, though. But Luke was a man of complete honor with the King's navy. He wouldn't put his reputation at risk by consorting with pirates.

Would he?

Annabeth was so focused on possible ulterior motives, she didn't notice the fact they were about to pass a military vessel. Percy touched her leg. "Stay quiet. Let me do the talking." He said.

As the skiff reached the king's ship, someone from above called out in a booming voice. "Halt!"

Percy's rowing started to slow, and eventually they stopped. The stern voice of a military man spoke up. "What business do you have being about this late at night?" He asked.

Annabeth could vaguely see a splash of red mixed with the lights. The redcoat. His voice seemed misplaced with the sounds of festiveness. "I'm just getting back from a resupply for my ship." Percy said, pulling out a musket from next to Annabeth. The metal slipped against her leg as he did so.

Percy showed the musket to the man, then put it back under, and the barrel rested in the palm of Annabeth's open hand. "Can never be too careful, what with those _savages_ on boats running a muck all around the ocean, now can we?" He asked in a reasonable, degrading tone. The redcoat grunted.

"I'm afraid I'll have to see what's under the canvas, sir." He said. "The bells began ringing, and I can't have you going past without knowing you're sneaking something under me nose." He said in a Welsh accent.

Annabeth stiffened under the blanket while Percy spoke. "Whiskey, bacon, a box of rounds, and... Um... Women's clothing." He said under his breath. Annabeth wanted to curse.

"What was that last one?" The military man asked. Annabeth could hear the flushed way his voice had become.

"Er, captain, would you please duck down for me?" He asked. Annabeth guessed it was the fact he's been addressed as a captain, but he got lower to Percy. "You see, my wife is looking at us right now from that ship over yonder, and I don't want her to know about what I bought for her just quite yet, savy?"

Annabeth wouldn't have bought it for a second, but the redcoat seemed convinced. He grunted, nodding. "Aye, I'd hate to ruin yer surprise... Alright. Go on through. But I'll have to come over and check after you've unloaded the, um, 'precious cargo'." He said. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

Percy thanked him, then started to row once again. When they were out of earshot he whispered. "He didn't believe me. He's calling a rowboat to cut us off when we reach the entrance." He warned. Annabeth's back stiffened.

Sure enough, Percy touched her leg in warning. "Excuse me." Someone called from behind them. Percy turned and Annabeth could hear the poshness in the voice. An officer, may be. "Please pull off to the side."

Silence, and then the world seemed to hold its breath in Annabeth's mind. She was suddenly hyper aware, no more music and laughter to distract her. The hand holding the musket tightened.

"Now." Percy said aloud, throwing up the blanket as Annabeth sat up. She took the musket in her hand and in a single fluid motion, aimed and fired.

She didn't miss.

The shot entered one of the port side rowers right in the hand. He dropped his oar in the water, screaming in agony and clutching his hand.

Annabeth seemed to feel as if everything was going a fourth its normal speed. Smoke curled towards the sky as if it were a snake in the bright lights trying to hide. Her hearing was suddenly suppressing the noise of gunfire, as if she was underwater. She saw Percy's hand raise, his flintlock in hand. She heard the explosion only slightly, but watched as he hit another rower in the shoulder, port side as well.

The rowboat pitched to the right, suddenly losing its rhythm and direction. The officer at the head tilted dangerously, almost going overboard.

Percy was back on the oars, paddling with enough force to leave a wake of sorts. He didn't appear to be breaking a sweat, and calmly looked Annabeth in the eye. "The ammunition is to your right. Keep them off of me for as long as you can." He ordered.

"Sounds like a plan." She said simply, reloading her musket. She kept a steady eye on the boats surrounding them, making sure that nothing wearing red could sneak up on them. She took a flintlock from the pile as well, loading and stowing it until usage.

As they began to pass other merchant ships, she caught a glimpse of red. She instantly sighted him between her iron sights crosshairs, then fired. The redcoat jerked to the side before falling into the water.

As they turned a corner Annabeth noticed the rowboat beginning to follow. Too far for an accurate shot, she remained still. No use in wasting ammunition.

As they began to pass a simple wooden barge sticking out in the canal system, Percy cursed. When she turned she saw why. Another rowboat, on a collision course with them. Without warning Percy tossed her the oars and jumped up.

He jumped out of the boat and onto the barge with a certain grace. While drawing his cutlass, he began to give a yell that rivaled the one when he fought Luke's crew single handedly.

Annabeth was still paddling, but trying to get a good look at the fight over her shoulder.

Percy jumped feet first onto the rowboat, kicking the officer into the water. He startled a few of them so badly they jumped in willingly, choosing self preservation over loyalty. Finally, Percy kicked the tiller at the back, causing the boat to spin out of control, ramming into the barge. Finally, Percy jumped back onto his skiff, head first with his bottom in the air.

When he'd finally sat down correctly he took the oars back, and Annabeth sighed in relief. Her muscles were already stiff, and her arms ached. She was by no means weak, but without a decent meal or gulp of honest water, she felt like she might simply fall apart.

But when the yelling began she had to resume firing, aiming the musket after the first rowboat that had steadily gained on them. As they fired, she heard a round splinter the railing by her face.

Her shot went wide, only causing them to hesitate in reloading. Percy went into overdrive, breathing heavily with each pull of the oars. "We just need to reach the entrance." He said.

And suddenly it was there. Annabeth was under a glittering canopy of lights and now she wasn't. She looked up momentarily, seeing the stars sparkling.

But the rowboat was still following, and they would be overtaken. Then she and Percy would hang, and this escape would be for nothing. In fact, she saw that they were even now being targeted by two cannons! The entrance was made by two military ships, and they had orders to fire. "We're going to die." She stated, not in anguish but acceptance.

Percy had the nerve to smile. "Don't be so sure, captain." He said.

She could hear the click from dozens of meters away. Not supposed to be possible, but she guessed that death wouldn't be kind enough to be deaf in their final moment.

Then there was an explosion twenty times that of what a normal cannon should make and Annabeth watched in startled awe as the two battleships, prides of His Majesty's navy, were blown to bits.

Flaming pieces of wreckage began to rain down around them, and the rowboat that had been following them was gone.

Percy started to chuckle lightly, but kept rowing to a steadier, calmer beat.

"That was you?" She asked in awe, seeing that as the only explanation. Percy smiled, a cocky, arrogant smirk that lit up his face.

"Impressed?" He asked.

Annabeth was about to come up with a witty retort when she had a strange feeling. A primal sense that was suddenly shooting warning bells into her skull. She saw the blue of an Admiral's coat... The glint of the moonlight off metal...

"Get down!" She yelled.

The musket fired and she made her own decision. Taking Percy by the shoulder, she pushed him to the side as hard as she could.

There was a searing pain in her shoulder, then nothing else.

* * *

 **Read and Review!**

 **LHG :)**


	4. At Your Service

**Hey Guys! New chapter, new beginning, you know how it goes! This is when this story really kicks off, so read closely!**

 **I'm not Rick, or a pirate historian. Sue me (Don't really, plz).**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

When Annabeth woke she was on land. She first felt uncomfortably warm, especially her right arm. She ached everywhere, and her stomach felt like someone had shot her with a cannonball.

With a start she realized she couldn't open her eyes. She panicked, her breath coming in short, ragged pants. She was stuck in total darkness, alone.

And just as she was about to try and scream, she felt a warm, calloused hand make contact with her forehead. She froze at first, but when the same hand began to rub its knuckles against her face to calm her, she willingly obliged, even going as far as trying to lean into the touch.

When the hand retracted she tried to keep herself calm. She tried to move her lips and speak, but all that came out was a whimper. A weak sound that Annabeth instantly regretted making.

She felt someone lean her up against something, then a cup was brought to her lips. She felt the cool, cold wetness and recognized it as water. She began to drink eagerly, trying to grab the cup herself. As he arms began the shaky assent, they were suddenly pushed down. The cup was moved a bit farther from her.

"Easy, captain. You need to pace yourself." A soft, gentle voice spoke. Annabeth, her throat now usable, tried to speak.

"Where am I?" She asked, her voice still hoarse. She began to cough, her head going forward and shooting a blinding pain through her.

The same calloused hand gently took her neck and leaned it back. This time when she felt a spoon touch her lips, she made sure to not get ahead of herself. Her taste buds exploded in unexpected pleasure when she realized it was beef broth, made with _real_ beef. A rare commodity that cost a shiny penny.

Or as much time as it took for you to steal one.

After another four spoonfuls, she tried again to open her eyes. This time her body obeyed her.

As she opened her eyes, she first felt blinded. The sun beat down on her through patched shade from a palm tree above her. When her eyes focused she realized that she wasn't on the gritty sand, but warm, soft grass that she'd only remembered from her childhood.

She twisted her neck, making an audible _pop_ and causing her to curse. She was stiff. Extremely stiff. But now she could see better.

There wasn't much that could take Annabeth's breath away, but this was close. She imagined this is what paradise might look like, the one she'd decided she, as a pirate and a woman, might've never gotten into.

Palm trees and bushes as thick as a forest in England, towering over her. There was a bright blue sky, a few stray clouds overhead. The chattering of birds and monkeys, all around her. She could see some sort of stone structure right in front of her, the remains of an old house or church. No, judging by the stones along either side, it was some sort of fort. It was beautiful.

She felt those calloused hands on her again and nearly jumped had she been able to move. Instead, she tried to turn her head and winced at the slight movement. What she saw were two worried eyes, the color of the ocean on a sunny day. "Take it easy for now, Annabeth." He said. He took her in his arms slightly, then laid her down on the grass. She tried to move again and he held her down.

"In all seriousness, you've just had a round removed from your shoulder. Restrain yourself before I have to. I'll cause more pain than relief." He warned, setting a blanket over her.

Annabeth began to register what she last remembered, then frowned. "Why am I here?" She asked again.

Percy began to stow away his cooking supplies, leaving a covered pot out. Then he started to put out his fire. "You are here because you need to recover, then you and I are going to make ourselves a plan." He replied, as if he were picking her up for sabbath mass. She blinked a few times.

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

He continued to ignore her, stowing his equipment under a canvas tied around a tree. He set it a carefully in it and then began to whittle a tree branch with his knife. Only then did he speak. "Get some sleep, Annabeth. Then I will explain further our future together."

 _Our future together,_ she thought as sleep took her in its grasp.

...

When she woke again the sun was down, setting below the trees and casting shadows as long as masts against the background. The birds had nearly silenced, but all manner of insects were beginning to chirp, happily joining into the chorus of the night. The stars were just beginning to make their appearance.

Her body, although still stiff, was quick to obey her. She grimaced in pain when her right arm tried to take any weight, but she understood that couldn't be avoided. She would simply have to deal with it for now.

She sat up, quickly taking in her surroundings. The supply tent with the necessary equipment. The fire, down to a few embers. A sword and pistol - _her_ sword and pistol -stowed next to her. She grabbed the familiar weapon of the pistol, checking it for damage. Someone had cleaned it recently. Inspecting the sword closely led to the same result. But who had done such a thing? Who had stolen them back?

Then she heard something large and heavy hit the ground somewhere in the tree line, followed by a curse. She scanned the area for danger, instead seeing Percy walk through the growth. Behind him he was dragging a tarp full of... Well, something.

Percy set the tarp by his other supplies, careful to keep it folded up. Finally, after he was done he set his weapons down, towards his left. He plopped onto the ground with no grace whatsoever, took off his boots and coat, then planted his now bare feet by the embers.

Annabeth watched what felt like ritualistic activity in complete silence, not giving away that she was awake. Instead she watched him as he tried in vain to get comfortable on the grass. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "What are we doing here?"

Percy was so startled he jumped, his feet landing in the embers. He yelped, standing quickly and jumping from foot to foot. He tried licking his hands and touching his feet to keep them cool, but it didn't help. Annabeth couldn't help laughing at the ridiculous sight before her.

When he was done he sent her a cold stare, his eyes boring into hers. He sat cross legged, his feet off the ground and the knee length pants riding up slightly. His shirt was ruffled and wrinkled, and his bandana on his head crooked. "Are you done?" He asked coolly, as if he hadn't just played the fool.

Annabeth, a smile still on her face, nodded her head slightly. She just found the situation so ridiculous all of the sudden. Hadn't she been hunting him not a week ago? Hadn't she been bent on taking back what was hers and then leaving him somewhere to rot?

Hadn't her ship been following him like a lamb to slaughter? Hadn't her brave, loyal crew given their lives in a fruitless pursuit? Hadn't he been the cause of that?

Annabeth wasn't smiling any longer. Instead she began to shut herself down, not even looking at Percy. She kept her eyes focused on the embers, remembering the heat of the _Athena_ 's hull burning...

"Captain." Percy said gruffly, yanking carefully on her sleeve. Annabeth looked up, seeing that he was offering her something. With a start, she realized it was a bottle of rum. "I think it's about time you let it out." He said.

Annabeth had no idea to what he was referring to, because there couldn't be a possibility that he knew what she was thinking, or even going through. She had just lost everything. Her friends- _family -_ , her legacy... Her freedom. She had no ship to call her own.

So, although wary, she snatched the bottle from him and took a long gulp. The bitter, sour taste left her lips in a grimace, but she downed the rest anyways. After the bottle was gone, she couldn't help but feel her eyes water. Percy, whom had been sipping his own brandy, noticed immediately. She tried to hold it in, but began to hiccup.

It was silly, wasn't it? To think that she finally got what she wanted! Freedom! A ship and a crew! A reputation as a cursed ship, a ghost ship. Now, those things were gone! Her crew dead! Her father disowning her and Luke disposing of her to the gallows! Of course she laughed!

Laughed hard enough to cry.

Then all she was doing was crying.

Sobs racked her body, sending jolts up her wounded arm and ribs. She curled her legs towards her stomach, hugging them to herself. Her hair shadowed across her face, and the tears freely fell from her eyes. She wanted to scream, and her drunken self decided it sounded like a favorable idea. So she let out a bone chilling noise that even the dead could hear.

She felt herself falling deeper down a hole, knowing that blaming Percy wasn't going to bring her crew back. It was her fault, wasn't it? She led them to slaughter.

As she cried, she had no idea that Percy had carefully but a blanket around her back and laid her down on her side. Her drunken mind registered vaguely that her bottle was taken from her, and was left unreplaced. She whimpered slightly when the absence of the drink became evident, and her thoughts became as hollow as her soul felt. She laid there for hours, till the moon had risen high above and the crickets began to chirp.

But still, when she tried to sit up she could already see Percy stoking the embers, humming a tune as calm as the waves on the shore. She felt her head pounding (she didn't hold her liquor well) and had to bite back a curse so as not to shatter the stillness. Finally, she was able to reach a sitting position, her knees to her lips and arms wrapped around her legs.

Percy, still humming, handed her some water. She took it tentatively, relishing each sip. She hadn't realized she'd drunk it all until her next sip came out dry. Percy took it back wordlessly, his humming not even wavering. "We have much to discuss. It's better you got it all out now, rather let it burden you later." He said.

Annabeth frowned. "What do you mean?" She asked.

He shrugged. "It comes with the job, I suppose. Ghosts haunting our dreams, leaving us restless. To see them, just beyond the fog... It's maddening." He said. "So rather you cry now than cry later." He finished.

Annabeth pondered his words for a moment, wondering if the next time she slept, she'd see Thalia, or maybe Hazel, just out of reach, appearing to her, whispering in her ear... _Murderer... Traitor..._

"Captain." Percy said, snapping her out of her thoughts. She shivered and he shook his head in suspicion.

"Why do you call me that?" She asked, eyes narrowed and suspicions raised. "Many won't even trade with me because of what I am, much less acknowledge my title." She said, which wasn't a lie. It was the reason some stall owners wouldn't trade with her, much less talk to her. Any reputation or sources she had to earn. Twice fold, being a pirate as well.

Percy wouldn't meet her eyes. He insistently prodded the fire, causing sparks to fly into the air. "Because you've already earned that title. Seeing how I'm out of work, and you're out of a ship, I don't see any reason for us to work together." He said. "Besides, it's the least that I owe you." He muttered.

Annabeth frowned, trying to make sense of what he was trying to say. _The least that I owe you._ What could he be speaking of? "We cannot." She replied simply. She refused to work with a Percy, no matter how much she might actually need him. "I have a reputation to uphold." She said pridefully.

Percy let out a single bark of laughter, so loud it surprised Annabeth. She jumped, jolting her arm and causing her to wince. "Well, _your majesty,_ I'm afraid that reputation isn't something you need to be worrying about." He said with a smirk. Annabeth raised an eyebrow, narrowing her eyes. What was he talking about?

"And why is that?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Percy's face turned grim. "Because, I owe you my life, Ms. Chase. Whether you want me there or not." He said. " _I'm_ the reason your crew is dead, your ship at the bottom of the sea. There is nothing you can say that would convince me otherwise." He added, when Annabeth went to say it was her fault. Percy took out a sack from behind him, tossing it towards Annabeth. The disgust was evident on his face.

"That's what I've stolen from you, and then some." He said. "It's not enough for a ship, at least a fighting ship, but I figured we might get started somewhere." He said.

"There is no 'we', Jackson. I'm not going anywhere with you." She said, folding her arms.

Percy, to Annabeth's confusion, nodded. "You're absolutely right. You aren't coming with me. _I'm_ going with _you."_

* * *

 **Read and Review! Also, shameless self promotion! If you like Avengers, you'd like my crossover, _Heroes & Ghosts! _**

**LHG :)**


	5. Trouble at the Docks

**Hey Guys! Read and review, because you know I need the help! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

 **I'm not Rick Riordan.**

* * *

 **Annabeth:**

Annabeth tried in vain to leave the island without him.

It was an island they'd been on. Nothing big, nothing but jungle, a few small hills, and a broken fort that was probably left by dead settlers. Annabeth even walked it a few times, judging it to be maybe ten miles all the way around.

She'd been trying to regain her strength, working hard at lifting the regular supply of fruits Percy had on standby. She kept the fact her shoulder was feeling better from him, hoping to catch him off guard.

You see, as much as she'd tried to annoy Percy (even going as far as dueling him) she couldn't make his promise waver. Annabeth would be stuck with him, maybe until death. A small part of her didn't doubt it, even finding it admirable.

However, a much larger part was too busy trying to annoy him enough to leave her alone and telling herself he was a burden.

So he had to go. Or, to put it more accurately, _she_ had to go.

...

It had been two weeks since she'd woken up fully and Percy had pledged himself. In that time, she'd fooled him into thinking she might be completely crippled in the left shoulder. He'd showed concern, but besides changing bandages he did nothing. He let her exercise her legs, but never let her try anything with her arms (besides a 'friendly' duel).

Night had fallen over paradise, and Percy had fallen asleep. Annabeth had made sure of it, even going as far as tapping him with her boot. He'd drunk more brandy than usual, effectively killing his rational side for a few minutes before making him pass out. He'd given Annabeth another rum, but she'd kept it closed.

And now she was running.

She gathered her sword, pistol, compass, and a sack of provisions and gold together, grunting a bit in pain at the movement of her left shoulder. She didn't risk making too much noise, trying to remain quiet. When she was ready, she had made her way swiftly to the beach, where Percy's skiff remained.

She didn't feel all that sorry, stealing the skiff from him. He'd probably stolen it from somewhere else, anyways. Instead she worked mechanically, to the point as to where she felt no pain in her shoulder. She, after what felt like forever, finally pushed the skiff from land, jumping and sitting in the skiff. She felt giddy and nostalgic, yet also sad. Thalia and her had started out like this, running from an unfair, unjust system. Her skin and race. Annabeth's status.

Could Percy have related?

Annabeth dismissed the thought, instead trying to keep the skiff steady as she rowed. She had to try and pace her right arm, seeing as her left wouldn't function properly. She was surprised at how the boat listed to starboard so much, and compensating was a taxing process. The moon and starlight gave her very little to see by.

Just when Annabeth wasn't able to see the island anymore, when she thought she might be able to rest easy, there was a loud _thud_ on the starboard side of the skiff, followed by something... Long and snakelike reaching into the skiff. Annabeth screamed, not knowing what else to do as the rest of this... This foul creature climbed into the boat.

Percy wiped the seaweed off of his clothing, cursing slightly. He sent Annabeth a small glare, annoyed by her scream of terror. She was still frozen in shock. "I'm not _that_ ugly." He muttered, trying to find anymore of the green vegetation. "You hit a kelp bed a few minutes ago." He commented idly.

Annabeth was in complete dumbfoundment, trying to understand. Had he been hanging off the side of the skiff the _whole time?_

Percy, trying to dry his clothes off, took off a boot and emptied the water overboard. When he saw the look Annabeth was giving him, he rolled his eyes. "I'm not that stupid either, Captain. You've been practicing with your sword on the tree a few paces from camp. Left handed." He said, wiggling the fingers on his left hand. He emptied his other boot. "And you cursed quite loudly, stubbing your toe on that rock."

Annabeth blink, as if he'd dropped from the stars above instead of crawling from the ocean below. "Leave me alone!" She whisper yelled, not wishing to shatter the once quiet night. Percy shook his head.

"I can't very well let you steal my boat, now could I? Besides, you're finally ready to travel! We have a long way to go."

...

They reached port two days later. Annabeth had to spend a night on the skiff, and Percy rowed nearly the whole way through said night. They had to avoid a trade ship (no doubt having heard about them being on the run) and then nearly making an unfortunate acquaintance with a whale (for some reason Annabeth found it funny that Percy had been sprayed in the face).

When they reached port Percy was quick to hoist up a simple, British flag to throw off any military guard. He had Annabeth tuck her hair into her hat, and wrap her chest so as to flatten it. She'd protested that she'd become a pirate to _not_ have to do those things, and he'd just said 'better a boy for a day than dead forever.'

She'd begrudgingly taken the chest wrap.

They spent a good five hours simply touring Rhodes Town. It was a very lively place, one of the few bountiful places the British had kept in good condition. The buildings were bright, rooftops even gleaming. Dirt pathways and chickens, children chasing after them and playing games. Even Annabeth had to smile a little.

The colossal ships at the docks were trade, not a single military in sight. Although the King's presence wasn't lacking. British patrols walked the streets in fours, but even they appeared laid back. Annabeth had insisted they make land on the actual shore, then leave once their business was concluded.

Percy stuck to her side like glue, carrying the a small portion of their profit in a bag in his jacket, and another in his boot. He made the final verdict on what they bought, and his haggling skills were nearly unparalleled. He usually ended up with twice as much as what he should've paid for.

Half he bought, half he stole.

Annabeth observed how he flirted with a stall owner shamelessly, taking three apples and walking away, leaving the other _man_ a stuttering mess. He'd simply handed Annabeth an apple and put the other two in his bag. When Annabeth raised an eyebrow, he raised one back. "Not my fault he took a fancy to me." He said.

When they'd finally gathered what they'd come for, Percy had led Annabeth towards the square. There wasn't much there, besides an old well and some gossiping women, and Percy had seemed satisfied when he'd cast judgement. He turned to her quickly. "I'm going to snatch us a room somewhere, okay? Please, _please_ just wait here until I'm back. Then I'll let you take over, savy?"

Without waiting for an answer he had turned quickly, leaving her behind. She sat down in exasperation, crossing her arms and making an indignant noise.

She had more time to gather her thoughts, finally. Obviously the only reason she kept in place. Time to think out a strategy.

Luke would search relentlessly for her. Percy as well, when she thought about it. That gun had been aimed at _his_ back. Obvious they had history, bad blood and such.

She shook her head. She could think about that later. Instead she went back to her first thought. Annabeth needed to hide. Disappear into friendlier waters and start over. She hated the idea, seeing as it took her five years to gain a ship, and another five to gain a reputation to match, but those were the cards she'd been dealt.

 _But what about Percy?_

That... Was a really difficult question to answer. He was a fierce warrior, obviously. Annabeth had never seen a single pirate fight the way he did. Whether luck or skill she had no idea, but he was a good pirate.

But Annabeth had to leave him. She could already see the twisted smirk on Luke's face as he caught not one but two pirates- personal enemies of him. Annabeth could disappear easier, avoid detection easier. Percy would only be a burden. The sooner she disappeared, the better.

But even as her thoughts dissipated and she could look around the square more, she didn't stand.

She still needed her own ship, and Percy held onto the money. She'd have to wait.

She was about to stretch her legs a little when she noticed that the women who'd been chatting had stopped, all staring over at her. She felt there eyes gazing over her body. Suddenly she was on alert. Could they have figured out who she was?

Too late, they all stood and made their way over to her. She panicked, wondering what she should do. Run? Hide? Hope Percy would swoop in and save the day?

"Hey there stranger." One of them said. Annabeth, in too deep to run, tried to appear casual.

She tipped her hat, trying to keep her hair hidden. "Afternoon." She said flatly, try to at least _sound_ boyish. She took in the fact they wore fancy dresses, and how their accents were high class, or at least trying to be. They seemed... Happy.

As if to emphasize the point, they began to giggle and whisper with one another. The one at the head, an exotic looking woman, gave Annabeth a winning smile. "Can I ask your name?"

Annabeth paused for a moment, but decided that she needed to remain undetected. She needed to be smart about this. "Andrew." She stated. No need to use long words.

They only smiled wider. "Well Andrew, do you have a ship?" They asked. She stiffened.

"No, I'm afraid not." She said.

The women exchanged glances, but ultimately returned to smiling. "What a fancy sword you have there." She said, referring to the cutlass at Annabeth's side. She tucked it to the side more, so as to hide the fact it was indeed fancy.

"Nothing special." She muttered, trying to show how disinterested she was. She didn't want these women to report her. It would be twice as hard to get out with an _alert_ military presence.

"Must've cost quite a shiny penny." The woman said under her breath. Annabeth's eyebrow raised, notice how the women were sort of... Surrounding her. "You know what would be a cheaper use of money?" She whispered seductively.

Annabeth realized that these women had no idea _who_ she was, let alone gender.

The blush that lit her cheek up were the equivalent of some of the birds she'd seen on the tropical islands. She began to try and casually scoot over, away from the women, but ended up bumping into one of them. The one in question took hold of her arm. "My, you have quite a bit of muscle." She said, giggling.

Annabeth was about ready to draw her sword when an echoing laughter burst from across the square. Annabeth had to groan.

He was standing there, head back and out of breath as he laughed. He was pointing at them as it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. A few people gave him strange looks as the passed.

When Percy was finished laughing, he sauntered over to the women, smiling that charming, boyish smile. His eyes lit up with a certain kind of delight when they gazed over Annabeth, just saying to her that this would be brought up again soon.

"My my, what have we here?" Percy said loudly, looking between the women and Annabeth. "Seems my deckhand has some charm of his own." He said.

Percy nudged his way through the line of women, smirking as they eyed him hungrily. They were mainly focused on the sack tied to his waist- his wallet. He ignored them however, choosing to do something Annabeth would smack him for later.

He took Annabeth's hand in his, gently, and made her stand.

Then he kissed her.

Annabeth had never kissed a boy. Nothing like that at all, and so she had nothing to compare to. What she did know... His lips were soft, not rough. Warm. And the way her stomach began to heat up told her this was a foreign feeling.

When he pulled away, the women had dispersed, leaving the two of them alone. Her mind took a moment to register this when he smirked, speaking loudly for the women to hear. "Sadly, my charm is too much to ignore!"

Her cheeks colored, and her eyes burned with rage, but he sent her a wink and guided her by the arm as if he was in the right. "Come. I've found us a room. The stalls will be closing in a few moments." He said.

She slapped him hard enough to leave a mark that night. He was too busy laughing to care.

* * *

 **Review! Tell me what you loved, what you didn't. I'm going for a Assassins Creed IV kind of story, so if you have any ideas, PM me!**

 **LHG :)**


	6. Sixth Sense

**Hey guys! New chapter, getting into the thick of things now, so I hope you enjoy where the story takes you!**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.**

* * *

 **Percy:**

Percy set up his single blanket in the skiff again.

They'd finally traded enough, having the necessary food and supplies for a long journey. Really, he truthfully had no idea what he was doing. Although that was a norm for him, Annabeth seemed ready to strangle him. She kept saying that they needed to head back out to sea, but Percy would argue he was more comfortable in the islands.

But when she'd reminded her that she was captain, his hands were tied. _Literally,_ she tied his hands to the mast and made him sleep that way for a night. He guessed it was the kiss, of course. She'd seemed happier after punishing him for that.

So, albeit reluctantly, Percy set the sail towards the open sea.

And that's when everything was torn apart.

...

"There's going to be a storm." Percy said out of the blue, only registering he'd said it after it'd been said.

He didn't take it back, though. His father had had an uncanny sense about when a storm might erupt, and Percy liked to believe he inherited it as well. He hoped he was a lot like his stepfather, the one he really called father.

Annabeth looked skyward, then scanned the horizon warily. Storms were horrible on land, of course, but out on the ocean? Twenty, nay, a hundred times worse. They were announced usually with a long warning beforehand, such as clouds. The sky was clear. Percy, although feeling a bit stupid, put on a faked smirk when Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him.

"I can feel it." He said.

She rolled her eyes, beginning to adjust the sail back into the faintest of breezes. The wind had started to die, and Percy would have to row (his arms groaned in protest at the thought). "Well, keep you and your 'feelings' to yourself, please. I'm trying to find a breeze, which you better hope I do."

Percy looked around, taking in everything _except_ the cloudless sky. No breeze, a still, calm ocean, even the noises of waves crashing into each other. A calm, as if the world was catching its breath.

"Annabeth, we need to turn around." He urged, tugging lightly on her sleeve like a child. She swatted his hand away, cursing when she realized the breeze was gone.

"Now look at what you did." She muttered accusingly. It was foolish to blame lack of wind on him, but she seemed to do it often. He rolled his eyes.

"If I controlled the winds, I'd push us back to land. There's a storm coming." He said.

"Percy, there's nothing around for miles! Where would we go?" She asked him as if he were mentally impaired. He noticed she spoke to him like that often, and his anger was rising.

"I'm sure of it, okay? There's a storm heading this way." He said. In all honesty, there was no way he could be certain that that was true, but he stuck by his instincts, and if the gypsy in Singapore had been right, his father was guiding him as well.

And he trusted his father.

Before Annabeth could protest he took out the oars and set them into the oarlocks. His arms began to groan in protest, but little by little the skiff began to move back towards the islands that he couldn't see.

"You idiot! We're supposed to be going to the Colonies!" She said, and began to punch his side relentlessly. He yelped in protest, but kept rowing at a steady pace as she cursed his name. "-when we get back, huh? Luke will-" Percy ignored her, continuing to row.

Until she punched his face.

Percy had taken a lot of hits in his life. The first governor of his town? He had been eight. First time pirates tried stealing from his father's ship? He'd been out cold. He's collected his share of scars and bruises.

But _her?_ How was she even able to hit like that?

Percy's face whipped backwards with an audible _'Crack!'_ as his arms jerked forward in surprise. He didn't let go of the oars, luckily, but he did bring the port side one in so he could check his nose. His fingers came back red, and he could tell it was broken.

Annabeth seemed appalled at her own actions. Her hand was over her open mouth, and her eyes wide. Her fist, he saw, had torn a bit at the knuckles. "Sorry!" She said, sounding shocked, but not the least bit genuine.

Percy picked up a spare piece of canvas, holding it to his nose gently, but wincing. Broken. Possible just out of place, but it felt as if it was broken.

Percy pulled the other oar in as well, setting it so it wouldn't fall into the water. Then, with a bit more pain involved, he put his head up towards the sky and tilted back slightly. He felt the bitter taste of his own blood in his mouth.

"Are you okay?" Annabeth asked tentatively. Percy tilted over the boat and spit. A red glop hit the water, dispersing quickly. He quickly cleaned the rag, then put it back over his nose. He sent her a quick glare, but otherwise did nothing.

"I think you might've broken my nose." He said, sounding like a duck as he tried to speak without disturbing his nose.

Annabeth, argument forgotten, reached forward tentatively. "Let me see." She said, trying to take the rag from his nose. He tried to move from her grasp, but it only hurt worse. She grabbed his rag and pushed on his shoulder. "Lie down." She demanded.

He was about to use a witty comeback, like _no,_ when she forced him down. Percy groaned, but let it happen.

"This is going to hurt." She warned.

Percy was about to ask what was going to hurt, but then she jerked his nose from side to side.

"Did I fix it?" She asked after his whimpering was over. Percy sat up, keeping the rag to his nose.

"Don't- don't try to help me, please." He muttered. She rolled her eyes, apparently back to normal.

"It was not that bad." She said. Percy's vision tinged red for a second, but after a few deep breaths he calmed down.

"Wanna find out?" He threatened. She was about to come up with a retort when something appeared in Percy's vision. He suddenly smirked. "Hey Annabeth?"

"What?" She asked, now annoyed.

"look behind you." He said.

While Annabeth turned to see what he'd seen, he tied the canvas around his mouth and nose. She scanned the horizon and her shoulders dropped.

"Is that-?"

"Storms afoot, captain. Think it's time we row for cover." He said, smugness dripping in his voice. He reset the oars, then began to paddle. His nose didn't hurt that much anymore.

...

They made it a full hour before the storm hit.

Percy's arms gave out after sixty minutes, really. He'd had the unfortunate luck to cramp his muscles the night before, rowing as well (another form of Annabethian punishment) and now they were starting to cramp up as well. Finally, another sixty minutes of weak half-rowing, his arms gave out.

"Don't stop yet. Just a little longer." Annabeth encouraged, looking over her charts so as to locate somewhere they could stay the night. Her hands were splayed out, trying to keep the wind from picking up the precious map.

Percy, although tired, was coaxed by the sudden gentleness of Annabeth's voice. His arms stung at the movement, and the roaring in his ears might've drowned out the roaring of the storm, but he pressed on. He tried once again to row them towards safety.

But then the clouds caught up with them.

And the waves lifted beneath them, nearly ten feet high.

The winds hit and the boards of Percy's skiff groaned.

Annabeth quickly stored the map away, and Percy, his arms now dead sore, stowed the oars. They secured anything that could go overboard, then Annabeth yelled at him over the wind. "Have you ever sailed in a storm before?"

Percy nodded. "A few times, but I wasn't in a skiff, and the waves weren't nearly as small." He yelled back. As if to disprove his point, the first large wave hit the side of his skiff. Water doused them, chilling Annabeth to the bone. While Percy had his heavy coat, she was in a blouse and vest.

The rain began to come down in sheets, and although it had been day only moments before, all above them was black as smoke. Lightning flashed between the clouds, giving just a fraction of light to sail by.

Meanwhile, the waves were tossing them across the ocean like ragdolls, and at one point Percy's stomach lurched when he felt weightlessness take him as they went airborne.

When he turned to Annabeth, he saw the lightning reflecting in her eyes, eyes as wide as tea plates (not that he ever drank tea). Her clothing was soaked, and she was shivering. The wind had blown her hat away as well, and her hair flew around her as if she were underwater. Her teeth chattered, and her breathing was labored. She was afraid, and he could tell.

Percy, realizing she wasn't going to be able to handle this, took her by the arm. She locked eyes with him, and he understood her fear. This storm wasn't normal. This felt like the wrath of God himself.

He ducked down, pulling part of the sail they'd stowed up from the ground. It was wet, yes, but not entirely soaked.

Using his quick fingers, he tied two of the corners to the places he'd tie ropes to port to. He handed her the other two corners quickly. "Tie them down. Quickly." He said, bringing his mouth to her ear. Squeezing her arm in reassurance, she nodded, quickly doing as she was told.

When it was done, the sail covered the entire length of the skiff, leaving little to no sky above them. The wind still howled, trying to pick up the sail, but the volume seemed muffled, leaving it the sound of musket fire as opposed to cannon fire.

Percy, going under it, saw Annabeth already huddled in the corner, shivering and hugging herself. Water dripped off of her clothes and hair, adding to the puddle already there. Percy frowned, deciding the water needed to go. He found a cup floating among the water and began to carefully and methodically throw water over the side. His arms groaned in protest, but otherwise he cleared most of it out.

Percy got himself off of the bench, choosing instead to sit on the deck across from Annabeth. He spread his legs over to Annabeth's side, even though her hands kept her legs pinned to her chest. He began to sigh, but burst into a fit of chuckling. "Let's never do that again." He said, mostly to lighten the mood.

Judging by the way Annabeth didn't move, he guessed she hadn't heard him. Percy sat himself up, sighing again. The rain still smacked against their makeshift roof, and the waves were still tossing them about, but he shifted next to Annabeth with relative ease.

"Captain." He tried, tapping her shoulder. No response. He tried again. "Captain." Again, no response. He grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her. "Annabeth."

He heard her make a very unladylike noise, and realized that it was a snore. Her hair, which was blocking the view of her eyes, was lifted by his hand and he found that she was indeed asleep. He shook his head in disbelief, but decided not to wake her. Better asleep and at peace than awake and scared.

Instead, he pried her fingers off her legs carefully (although it took some time) and then found his blanket. It wasn't as wet as he thought it'd be, so he quickly covered her up.

He tried wrapping himself up further with his jacket, and eventually he began to doze as well.

Then the wind began to get sucked from out of his lungs.

* * *

 **Oh! Cliffy!**

 **LHG :)**


	7. The Demigod's Return

**Hey Guys! So, I originally forgot to put this in! I want you to know that I'm still working on this, and that _yes_ , its become a story with deities. The thing is, not all of them are Greek/Roman Demigods, and maybe some of them have powers and others don't. I want to apologize right now and honestly say this wasn't supposed to have Demigods, or gods in general, but then I started watching _Pirates of the Caribbean..._ I wanted some supernatural! This will be playing a significant role in the future of this story, and I hope you all enjoy it. Plz, don't think less of me. The story took me here, and I want to keep making it this way.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.**

* * *

Percy couldn't breath.

Even as he clawed his way towards the front of the boat, his throat was starting to burn. The longest whistle he'd ever heard was causing his ears to pop, and the sail seemed to be trying to swallow him and Annabeth.

 _Annabeth._

He didn't know how else to help her, besides jabbing her ribs with his boot. She woke, and he noticed how her eyes widened in surprise. Percy, for his part, dragged her by the arm over the bench, then shoved her head out from under the sail. Judging by the way her body under the sheet shuddered, she could breath again. Percy did the same, feeling clean, crisp air enter his lungs again.

And by crisp, fresh air, he obviously meant a swirling vortex of water they were currently being tugged towards.

Percy must've turned as white as a sheet, but his thoughts were too preoccupied by his certain death staring him in the face.

 _It stretched from the bottom of the sea all the way to the heavens above,_ his father had said, _a pillar of water so large and life-like, we were sure it was some sort of serpent, bent on destroying our ship._

Percy mentally did a checklist of what his father had described it with. _Howling winds,_ check. _Grey skies,_ check. _Churning ocean,_ check. _No land in sight,_ check.

Percy felt an arm jerk his roughly, and suddenly he was facing his captain's face. She was trying to look angry or defiant, but a tear traced down her cheek wordlessly. Percy gulped, also extremely terrified.

And now he had to do something stupid.

That was how he responded to unfair advantages. He played as unfairly as possible. He made an instant connection between the wind and his his clothes seemed to catch it, and made the most rash decision of his life.

He took the knot that was slowly blocking airflow down his throat and swallowed it. Then he carefully took Annabeth's hand and guided it to the edge of the sail, then carefully and methodically untied it. The edge instantly came alive, like a giant whip. Then, with extreme care, he did it for the other corner across. Then he grabbed the oars and set them up, sail roped to it, and it roped to the deck as securely as possible. He begged his stars that this would work.

Their ship was caught in the current, and that could not be stopped. The wind was even pulling them towards their doom, trying to coax them further towards the pillar of water. It was as if this was a form of punishment, or that death was certainly upon them now. Pirating never seemed to end well for the average pirate.

But Percy was never the average pirate, was he?

He had the sail propped up halfway, flailing behind him. He had it rolled halfway, then pulled taunt like before, but this time only covering half the boat. Annabeth was watching with a look mixed with confusion and fear. He gave her a stern look, worthy of his father's birthright. "Get under there. Now." He ordered.

Annabeth didn't seem to remember that she was the captain now. Instead, she listened wordlessly. Teeth chattering and knees wiggling, she took her leave going under the sail and over the first rowing bench.

Percy, satisfied, turned to face doom.

His mother told him stories. That's the best way to start. His mother had told him about the man that could stop the tides with the wave of his hand, or turn the ocean itself against an unsuspecting crew. She described to her wide eyed eight year old how, deep within the ocean, a heart beat like a drum. And how that heart belonged to a man.

No, a God.

Percy stood at the front of the boat, his boots planted firmly. Rain and wind ripped around him, throwing his clothes around and nearly taking the hat off of his head. Still, he looked towards the storm in defiance.

The first incident, as his mother called them, was when he'd been six. He was too young to remember, but vaguely knew what was being said. He'd been in the bath tub, grumbling about the maid. In his fit of sudden anger, he'd launched the poor woman through the window, soaking wet.

Percy closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to let all the racing thoughts in his head slow down. He knew what he needed to do. He twitched his fingers experimentally, calling out to the ocean around him.

The second incident was when he was ten, and he remembered it much more clearly. He was a big boy then, allowed, much to his mother's reluctance, to go swimming in the bay with his friends. They'd been playing in the surf before venturing further out. Percy's best mate, Grover, had a bad leg but was keeping up.

Someone saw the fin and had screamed, causing quite a panic. Percy had seen the dark, ominous triangle move towards his friend. In an act of desperation, he'd yelled out to it.

Wouldn't it confuse everyone present to see the man eater retreat into the sea without a meal?

Percy felt the telltale tug in his gut, telling him he was getting positive feedback from the ocean around him. He opened his eyes, leveling his gaze at the tornado of water before him. Setting his jaw, he began to raise his already-sore arms.

He was fourteen when his stepfather- father, really -took him out to sea for the first time as a deckhand. They'd been out on the open water and heading to one of the king's finest convoys to help restock when the convoy had been attacked. A poor, creaking trader ship, they would have surely been destroyed in the crossfire between the King's ships and pirates.

That is, until the storm came.

Never, under any captain's eye had a storm formed and snuck up without any warning so quickly. Maybe he'd lied to Annabeth to make her feel better: he'd been in multiple storms. The fact was… He'd made most of them. He could control those. He'd led their vessel to safety that day, without a single dent in the hull.

The waves around the skiff quivered, writhing like a wounded animal. It encouraged Percy, giving him a confidence boost. He took another deep breath. "Obey me." He whispered. The water began to part around him and the skiff, almost giving off a wake. The rain seemed to move in slow motion as it passed by.

But they were still being pulled toward the tornado.

Percy strained, reaching out and trying to redirect them, but they had already been pulled to closely to it. Already Percy's brow began to sweat and his fingers began to shake. His next breath was shaky, and his vision began to blur.

It was too much. The strain was killing him. His bitter thoughts turned to the woman under the sail. Had she not tried to work him to death the day before, or gone to land as he'd suggested…

 _Focus,_ the voice commanded from his head. _You can do this._

His vision returned with new vigor and his bitter thoughts dissolved. The tornado wasn't even ten meters away, and already he felt as if the skiff was being picked up and his lungs sucked dry. He shook his head to clear it, then drew his cutlass. "OBEY ME!" He commanded, thrusting the blade forward and down.

Percy's stepfather had guessed right. This _thing_ was the mixture of the storm and ocean, working together while fighting for dominance to create a pillar of destruction. A pillar stretching from the heavens to the ocean floor. As his sword traveled downward, he held back the pressure of an ancient feud. The tornado stopped, it's rage lacking fuel to continue.

Percy wanted to explode. He couldn't breath, or speak. He physically struggled to keep his blade in place. He felt like he'd stuck a cork over a freshly shaken bottle of wine, and now it was trying to get out from under him. The wind was picking up again, howling in his ears. The rain made his hands slick and he had to blink hard every few seconds.

They passed over the spot where the pillar had been… Five meters… Ten… Twenty… Forty… It wasn't enough. At the very least they needed one hundred meters. Otherwise they could be sucked in again. They weren't drifting fast enough, and Percy couldn't will the tides to help. His hands began to slip. He saw red on his hands and realized his nose was bleeding again.

Suddenly the skiff was moving, slicing through the waves as gracefully as a sailfish. As they moved further, the pressure began to spread through Percy's body. "Just a little longer. Please, Percy." Annabeth's exhausted voice huffed.

And there was that gentleness that he'd only heard in his mother's voice. The truly melodic noise that always took Percy back to better days. An island full of trees… With a beautiful, Spanish villa nestled by the seaside… And a town with a clock tower that was always ten minutes behind.

Percy collapsed, hearing the sudden _SPLOOOOSSHHH!_ of water and thunder battling for dominance once again. He let the gods be, just glad his own life was spared. His breathing was heavy and labored, his energy all but spent. With everything he had left, he propped himself up so that he could turn and face Annabeth.

She was rowing like a true sailor, shoulders heaving with exertion. Her hair was still being picked up and thrown around by the wind, and her blouse was soaked through by rain. She had this _look_ in her eyes Percy couldn't quite place, but it reminded him of the fire that erupted in his stomach from kissing her earlier.

Although certainly about to pass out, Percy let a weary smirk slip into his face. "Next time, we head for land when _I_ say to."

The fire intensified in Annabeth's eyes, and Percy let his head roll to the side. He watched the churning waves breaking over the skiff's side before letting his mind wander into oblivion.

...

Annabeth didn't know what to think of it. At all. Percy seemed to be making a habit out of leaving Annabeth tongue tied and flabbergasted, because he wouldn't stop. Now, as he lay unconscious in the bow of the skiff, drool leaking from his open and gaping mouth, she truly felt in the dark.

Annabeth was not open minded about the tellings of witchcraft and spirits. Of bad luck and tradition. Hokem and hocus pocus, created by single minded men in order to scare deckhands from venturing too far into the unknown. She discouraged such talks on her own ship.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

Her logical mind couldn't comprehend that a man no older than herself had just forced the wrath of two clashing forces of nature to halt and let two mere mortals pass.

To be frank, she felt quite small suddenly, out on the open ocean.

The storm did not go quietly afterwards. Lightning was her only form of light, helping her distinguish ocean and sky in the darkness. Waves tossed them around, keeping her bones chilled. Her arms ached, and with each mighty haul she gain a mere smiggen of sympathy for Percy. He might never use his arms again after what she put him through.

 _She_ couldn't handle another _five minutes_ of this.

…

She made it two hours.

Two hours of rowing, checking, and course adjustments. Two hours of only the patter of rain on ocean and thunder as company. Two hours of the need to breakdown and give up. But no, she _would not_ sleep, eat, or drink until she'd gotten out of the storm.

And as her eyes began to close and the oars were stowed, she was blessed with a different kind of blackness: one wreathed with a moon and a trillion stars.

* * *

 **So, Percy is a Demigod...**

 **Plz don't hate? Hehe...**

 **LHG :)**


	8. Burying Hatchets (Not In His Skull)

**Hey Guys! Srry, I forgot to put this in...**

 **I just wanted to let you guys know that I'm really enjoying how this story is progressing, and I can't wait to add in more supernatural stuff into the mix! I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

She woke before Percy.

And she thanks her lucky stars because of it.

What was supposed to be her trying to display a ' _job well done'_ sort of reward for Percy had ended up going wrong. While giving him the blanket, she might've passed out from exhaustion.

On his chest.

So when she cautiously blinked her eyes open and found the thin material of Percy's shirt beneath her, she couldn't hide the blush that crept up her face. Nor the second round of crimson when she had the thought that she missed the warmth after pulling away.

Instead she sat up quickly, putting the blanket back over the boy and sitting on the _opposite_ side of the skiff. She'd stowed the sail with the oars and mast, so they'd been drifting all night. No doubt played in her mind of where they were, though. The Stars still shone brightly in the night sky, giving her all she needed to know.

Annabeth, although tired, knew she wasn't about to fall asleep again. Too much littered her thoughts. Too many questions were forming, without any sign of answers anytime soon. Really though, the biggest question was making her sneak suspicious glances at her companion.

How can a _mere boy_ control a force of nature?

The question sent her back to her earliest ages, back on the farm before she'd been sent to live with her father. Her mother would tell such wonderful stories. A popular one was the god that pretended to be a beggar, looking for a place to stay. Those who denied him entry were killed.

Could Percy be a deity? She cast a wary glance at the boy at the bow of the skiff. His limbs splayed across the bench. His clothes ruffled and the way his hat sat crookedly on his head. His gaping mouth that snores louder than a whale song and the line of drool sticking out from his mouth.

No. Percy was not a god.

But as she curled up again, her gaze never left his still form. God or no, she would get her answers from him.

…

He woke at the first signs of dawn.

Annabeth hadn't even been watching for an hour when the sun had made its appearance. The streaks of pink and orange that were so different from the darkness that the storm had taken on. A shiver down her back reminded her that they hadn't almost survived the day before.

When Percy had first began to stir, Annabeth had stayed completely still, going as far as to close her eyes. Percy didn't seem to notice.

As he rose, it was easy to hear his bones popping over the constant sound of waves against their hull. How he expected Annabeth to still be asleep after his groaning, she had no idea. If her muscles felt this horrible, his must be unbearable. And who knew what kind of strain controlling the ocean had on a person?

He went through the simple morning tasks, having a meager breakfast and a swig of fresh water. He even went as far as to put the mast and sail up, but not setting a course. A twinge of satisfaction formed in her mind. She enjoyed setting course, and letting others perform the most important task for a Captain irked her.

After that, he set to the few more tedious tasks. From cleaning the deck to rinsing his bloody nose rag. As he was cleaning it, a shark had surfaced not ten feet from the port side and where he sat. Instead of panicking, he barely looked to tell the man eater to 'beat it'.

By the time this was done, the sun had long risen, and Annabeth realized that she needed to actually get up.

But getting up meant a confrontation. And although she was not superstitious, she wasn't a simpleton either. This boy had power, and what he could do with it was a mystery.

But then she reminded of how human Percy was.

It was after his work had long been over, and his fidgeting had been too much. He'd glanced over at his captain, seeing her still form. She'd been like that since he'd started his tasks and now concern was creeping in. _She had a longer night than you, probably,_ he reminded himself.

So when Annabeth felt the rough and calloused hand of her companion on her head, she felt a new rush of anxiety grip her heart. _What kind of witchcraft is he inciting on me?_

Her forehead was warm. Percy frowned, knowing that wasn't a good thing. She maybe had a fever? Maybe some other form of ailment? Either way, he wondered if heading for land was out of the question or not. Annabeth might not be in the best condition to sail.

He decided waiting for her to wake would be better. She wasn't an unconscious and bloody mess like after their encounter with Luke. His water healing had made sure it wouldn't bother her too much. A fever, he could cure without use of his powers.

He soaked his old nose rag in seawater, making sure the water was cool. Then he wrung out the rag and folded it up, just like his mother had shown him. _Care and compassion,_ she'd said, _is the key to a healthy recovery._ Percy had used this method many times helping his mother. She never really mentioned it, but he knows she met his father after he'd been injured.

Careful as to not wake Annabeth, he set the rag on her forehead. After that, he grabbed the blanket that had been wrapped around him that morning and covered her with it. Finally, satisfied that he'd done well, he began to make more fresh water, filtering the salt out and into a container (no reason he couldn't sell that later).

Annabeth didn't quite understand at first. He had treated her carefully, making sure not to 'wake' her and still keep her comfortable. It was… Recognizable. She just didn't know from where…

The farm.

She was eight. It wasn't even a month later her father had ordered her to join him in London. She'd been sick with something, of what she didn't remember. Her mother had sent her straight to bed, telling her that a cup of tea and some soup would be the best medicine. Really though, it had been her smile and her tone and the _stories._ Adventurers searching for treasure out West, over in the New World.

" _Why aren't any of them women?"_ She'd asked. Her mother just smiled kindly and given her a spoonful of soup, thinking before answering.

" _Because they had the more important job: to make sure the men grew up to be brave and daring so they can be Adventurers."_

" _But what if I want to explore? Or go on an adventure?"_ Little Annabeth had asked. Her mother's smile brightened.

" _Then you find your adventure, silly girl. You don't let the men tell you you can't."_ She said, putting a loving hand on her daughter's shoulder. " _Just be sure to send me some treasure back when you get it, okay?"_ She joked. Young Annabeth had giggled, sick and dreary, but happy.

That happiness hadn't lasted, and Annabeth remembered crying for hours after being told she'd be living with her father. The only reason she went along, and later the only reason she ran away, was because her mother's words had goaded her to.

And here was Percy, caring for her like her mother had. A confrontation seemed like the least disastrous thing she could think of now.

…

Percy was trying to make tea.

His mother said it was the perfect remedy to a confused mind and unsettled tension. When neighbors fought, Sally Jackson wouldn't be too far, making the two parties sit down for some tea and a nice long chat. Almost every argument ended in kind words towards Sally.

Now, Percy figured that any unsettled difference between Annabeth and him could be worked out with a cup of tea. Besides, he was out of rum.

He put water in the pot from his mess kit, making sure the fresh water was indeed fresh. The last thing he needed was Annabeth accusing him of trying to poison her with ocean water. She certainly consider him an idiot, then.

He had everything laid out, ready for use. Now all he needed was to heat up the water. He rubbed his hands in anticipation…

"What are you doing?"

He jumped slightly, pouring a little water onto his lap in the process. He sighed, touching his soaked leg and willing the water to dry. "Trying to make tea." He said, pointing out the objects in front of her.

She stood from the bench, folding up his blanket and stowing it away. When she sat again, it was across from him. "You understand you need hot water for that, yes?" She asked.

He scowled. "I can heat it up." He said motioning to himself.

"Oh."

There was a long silence that only the calls of seagulls seemed to pierce, and Percy instantly regretted mentioning his power. He instantly felt the disconnection forming between him and the girl in front of him.

"Would you show me?"

To say he was taken back by these words was an understatement. He'd never- _never_ -heard anyone interested in his powers before. Unless he counted…

"Sure." He said. He refilled the pot, careful to test the water. Then, after getting an encouraging nod from Annabeth, he thrust his hand towards the water.

It took thirty seconds for the water to boil, and Percy could only cast a nervous glance at his captain. Her gaze was fixed on the pot.

She helped him prepare the tea, for which he was grateful for. He had _no idea_ how to fix tea. They poured it straight from the pot and into the tin cups Percy kept with his kit, then she taught him how to put in the tea bags.

She took a sip and hummed in appreciation. "It's good. Thank you." She said.

He took a sip and wanted to wash his mouth out with salt water, because no way anyone could enjoy this. Still, he was a man. He swallowed the cup in a massive gulp.

Annabeth watched in amusement, and he realized her cup was still very much full. He scowled, setting his cup off to the side while Annabeth took a knowing sip. Percy didn't blush. He wasn't one for letting his cheeks color, instead scowling. When Annabeth had finished sipping her tea, she set the cup aside as well.

"That was really nice, Percy. Thank you for that." She said genuinely. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I figured that we needed to bury the hatchet, so to speak, if we're going to start working together. For real, too. None of the escapes and punishments, either." He said. "Believe it or not, I try to be a good man at heart. The pirating career was not my choice."

Annabeth quirked an eyebrow. "And what was, pray tell?"

Percy didn't blush again as he answered. Shut it. "Doctor."

A single bark of laughter echoed across the wide expanse of sea, making Percy look away and scowl. Annabeth was trying to hide a smile, coughing lightly. "I'm sorry. You just seem a little… Aggressive. I couldn't picture you as a doctor."

"I took good care of you, didn't I?" He challenged, looking her in the eye. "Besides, my mother was a midwife. She taught me what she could."

He must've put too much emotion into his words, because Annabeth was just as quiet as he was. When he looked away from her curious and shy look, she coughed again. "You're right, though. If we're going to give _this-"_ she motioned to the open sea "-a shot, maybe we should start treating each other better."

His smirk broke through the scowl. "So no more tying me to masts? Because I could live my whole life without doing that again." He said, beginning to tidy up the remaining ingredients.

Annabeth's face hardened, making Percy's heart freeze. That look, although one he'd never seen, scared him. "No. No more of that. But if you _ever_ kiss me again, Jackson, I will personally tie your hanging rope." She said, dead serious.

Percy began to wring out a rag to clean up his cup. He didn't even look back at his captain as he spoke. "You say that now. I'll have you know that was _strictly_ a business kiss. And let's not forget, those women think _I'm_ gay as well. Did you see how _disgusted_ they looked?" He shook his head in amazement. "I'll never be able to walk in that port again, lest I be stoned." He said, not letting her on to his jesting.

She smacked his arm none too gently, a scowl resting on her face. Her cheeks shone red at the memory. "Business or not, that was not allowed."

He shrugged, cleaning out his mug. "Was business, was it not? Unless you'd like something… More." He said, striking a pose on the confines of the bench. Annabeth paled, then her cheeks flamed. Percy laughed at the horror stricken expression on her face.

He was smacked again. But hey, he wasn't tied to the mast that night.

* * *

 **Read and Review!**

 **LHG :)**


	9. The Demon's Plaything

**Alright Guys, time to get into the supernatural side of things...**

 **I debated heavily on what I would do for the next few chapters, and honestly I've been putting my attention on my other story, _Heroes & Ghosts, _and when I'm not writing that I'm trying to get ready for midterm stuff... Ugh. Just ugh. **

**Anyways, enough about me! You guys want to read this, I hope.**

 **I'm not Rick.**

* * *

They were being followed. Percy was sure of it.

He'd been like that on the open sea, knowing what was coming before it had. The gypsy in Singapore was the one to first tell him that feelings in his father's domain was a very rare form of premonition. That 'gut feeling' was real in him.

So when he heard saw the single seagull crying in the distance, and the wind shift the tiniest of a degree, he immediately sat up in his makeshift bed (read: his coat wrapped around him) and took a look around.

The Stars shown clearly, the moon still out and moving west. Its fullness gave Percy something to see by, and the reflection off the ocean gave him a lot to see. It was nearly impossible to see the change from ocean to sky, the water was so clear.

It couldn't have been mere hours since the two had turned in for the night after a measly dinner of shellfish and stale biscuits, but Percy knew that Annabeth should be awake as well. He stood carefully, walking over to her huddled form and grasping her shoulder. He shook it lightly. "Annabeth."

She shifted slightly, but otherwise have no form of awareness he had tried to wake her. He shook her shoulder again. "Annabeth, wake up." He said, being a little more urgent.

This time her eyes slid open instantly, and Percy needed to take a step back. He'd never understand why those eyes left him so mesmerized, but they were just so… Alluring. They shone silver in the moonlight, a glare that made the bags under her eyes disappear. "What is it?" She asked, still not moving.

Percy cast a glance around the skiff and towards the open sea around them. For some reason, he felt like they were being surrounded. His skin burned like a brand was about to touch it (and he knew that feeling). "I think… I think we're being watched." He said carefully.

This got her attention. She sat up slowly, and Percy realized the sleeve of her shirt had slid off her shoulder. He looked away casually, glad his blush was hidden. "Is this the same kind of feeling you had before the storm hit?" She asked, completely serious.

Percy nodded. "Yes and no. Same feeling, but… It's not a storm."

She sighed lightly, her head hanging and shoulders relaxing. "Thank God."

"But I don't know _what_ it is. That's what scares me." He said. "I knew it was Luke when he was close… I don't know what this is."

Annabeth sat up a little more, and the minuscule way her hands tightened on the blanket did not go unnoticed by Percy. She licked her lips, searching as Percy had for any sign of approaching danger.

She looked like such a scared little girl right then, all forms of confidence disappearing. For most people, showing fear in such a high station was undesirable. To Percy though, he knew there was something more to it. Something that was shaking her faith in herself.

"What do you want me to do?" Percy asked, distracting her from whatever thoughts she might be having. Two weeks out at sea with her and he knew she was most confident while in charge.

 _Perhaps that's the problem._ I _have this power… and she can't understand what it's like._ He thought.

It clicked. How _hadn't_ he noticed her discomfort every time he took charge?

"Where do you suppose the nearest landmass is?" She asked, turning her head up towards the stars. The light cast a reflective sheen onto her skin and her blonde hair looked white. Percy gulped, thinking about how closely she resembles an angel.

His answer was instantaneous, though. Automatic. "There's a chain of tidal islands west of us about twenty minutes, and a bigger island east for forty. We're still a good week away from the Colonies, though…" His voice trailed off when he realized she was looking at him strangely. Her eyes were tired, but also wary still.

"I suppose perfect bearings at sea is another… Benefit, yes?" She asked cautiously.

Percy could tell it wasn't an offensive comment. She was just… Unused to this one. Percy internally cursed his impulsive nature. "It benefits us right now, yes."

She nodded, looking away from him. "Aye, I suppose it does." She said. There was an awkward moment where neither of them moved, choosing instead to avoid each other's wary glances. Somewhere off to their right, they could hear a whale coming up for air. "Right, set course for the island due east. I'd rather wake up tomorrow without water in my breeches, thank you."

 _I could dry those quicker,_ he thought bitterly. He chose not to voice it, though.

As he began to row east, Annabeth got out the map and oil lamp, lighting up their bow. She poured over the charts, comparing three different documents and mouthing thoughts as if Percy couldn't see. In reality, his staring was probably 'unfit' for a gentleman, but he couldn't look away. There was something… Different about Annabeth. A part of her he had only seen glimpses of…

Something was under the boat.

Percy shivered, his ever constant rhythm faltering as the oars stilled. He strained to hear what he felt, trying to understand. A cold patch, like walking on a shaded spot under a tree barefoot, had frozen his body. As soon as it was there, it was gone.

No, not gone.

Waiting. Just out of reach.

"What is it?" Annabeth asked, putting a hand on his arm to snap him out of his daze. He looked her dead in the eye, feeling her intense and steady gaze unwavering now. He took a deep breath.

"There's something there. Off the port bow. It's big." He said.

Annabeth frowned, her lips thinning. "Can you tell it to leave?" She asked, her voice surprisingly steady. "Will it follow your commands?"

Percy closed his eyes, trying to reach out to whatever it might be for it to _stay away._ After a few minutes he gave up, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure it's still there. I think it's too smart, or… Doesn't care."

Annabeth nodded, albeit stiffly. "Is it going to attack?" She asked quietly, as if afraid they were being overheard.

Percy went against his better judgement and told her the truth. "Yes, I think so. I might be able to… Subdue him for a few minutes, but… He knows where we're going." Percy said, pointing out the blackish green blob in the distance. "He's between us and the land."

Annabeth nodded again. "The map says there's a reef around the island. Can you see it?" Percy nodded, feeling the abundance of life in the small wall of dead, skeletal corals. "Could you get us there?" She asked.

Percy took a deep breath before nodding again. Annabeth took one as well, teaching for something under her blanket. "Go."

Percy went into overdrive, charging forward with all the power he could muster. His muscles were taut, moving the boat as fast as possible. Maybe he put in a little bit of his powers, but mostly he tried to scour the ocean around them for whatever predator considered his ten foot skiff worthy prey.

"Annabeth!" Percy gasped, feeling that bone chilling cold like the frozen oceans northward travel through his chest. He brought his hands up, thinking _wall_ when the thing hit.

He'd solidified the ocean below their skiff, but whatever creature that charged them had tremendous strength. It smashed into his wall like a sailfish, bouncing them- and the five feet of water below them -up out of the water and backwards. Percy and Annabeth both fell backwards over the benches.

Percy was up first, searching the ocean for something- anything to give away the enemy. The coldness was retreating, but if he could get a direction…

"There!" Percy said, pointing at the troubled water off in the darkness. Ripples moved in jagged lines like a knife cutting through the water. Percy frowned, knowing it must be _right below_ the surface.

Annabeth saw this as well, and she took better advantage of it.

Percy didn't even remember _bringing_ a blunderbuss, but Annabeth must've hidden it well. Two feet of pure gunpowder and a handful of pistol shot, she launched a thundering barrage of rounds into the shadows below them.

Percy felt a rush of emotion right then- _annoyance, hunger, pain -_ and knew they were not his own. This thing was sending Percy feedback accidentally through its thoughts, and Percy was getting the unfiltered truth of the beast's desire to eat them. He paled, his hands shaking.

"Where is it?" Annabeth asked calmly, reloading her hand cannon. Percy shook his head, not wanting to replay exactly what he'd heard. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath.

"It's circling. Fast. I'm going to try and make a barrier again." He said, bringing his arms up again in an X shape. He moved where the beast did, but it mostly stuck to the front of their ship.

"He's charging again!" Percy warned, seeing the ocean darkening towards them. It was like a huge mass of ink, leeching from the monster. _Annabeth's work, no doubt,_ he thought.

Annabeth's work wasn't done. She leveled her weapon again, this time using the railing as a rest. She took her sweet time, yet it couldn't have been more than five seconds.

When her shot echoed into the night, this time it was accompanied by something earth-shattering.

The roar was not so much heard as felt. It bubbled and churned the ocean, and accompanied by the blood it was a mystery why this creature wasn't dead. Odds were that the raw flesh would attract sharks, and that would not be helpful. Percy could handle maybe four at a time, but the frenzy this would attract? Impossible to control.

The creature was growing impatient, Percy noticed. It kept circling them, but not attacking. Meanwhile, Percy let his guard slacken the most minuscule way possible to lower his hand. He started making rhythmic movements with his wrist, and the ocean responded to his eagerness. They began to move again. Annabeth had reloaded once again.

"It's trying to keep us in open water. I'd wager at this rate we can be past the reef in ten minutes. Just-" her orders were cut off by a sudden pitch to the starboard side. Once again, they bounced out of the water in a flurry of movement. In the darkness, Percy saw the creature's partially concealed body. Black and white, with strange, rough looking skin…

Annabeth sat back up fully, aiming, but not firing as the creature sunk back into the ocean. Instead, she gaped at its size. "That has to be thirty feet, surely." She whispered.

"Sixty, actually." Percy corrected, caught off balance but otherwise okay. His face was probably making the moon jealous, shining as white as it was. "Maybe bigger."

"Good lord." Annabeth whispered, awestruck. Percy's wrist movement came back a little faster, jostling Annabeth back into reality. Percy saw she was doubtful of their life expectancies. "What is it?"

Percy shook his head, following its movements at the back of his mind. "Big enough to swallow us, small enough to kill." He said, sounding more confident than he actually was. "Focus on where it is. Maybe I can-"

This time Percy responded in force, not just building a wall but shoving it forward, letting out his own roar in the process. He felt the resistance as enchanted water smacked cartilage hard enough to wound, and this time nothing hit them.

Annabeth went behind him, taking an oar in each hand. She began to paddle vigorously, nearing them closer towards shallow water.

Percy repeated his defense several times, but his strength was failing him. His arms were noodles, and his legs barely holding himself up. They wobbled dangerously as the creature attacked again. "Annabeth." Percy gasped. "I don't-"

The next hit crumpled his wall, and Percy was launched backwards. This time there was a _CRUNCH!_ Followed by something moving backwards. Percy caught a glimpse of a tail as tall as himself.

"The hull is breached!" Annabeth yelled, and judging by the water lapping at his feet she was correct. Percy thought of the precious cargo in his storage…

He stood, suddenly feeling much more resilient. He scowled and, _ow,_ his head hurt. He put a hand on the back of his head, feeling blood seeping from his hair and into the water. Judging by the excited feeling deep below the water, he guessed the beast was relishing in drawing blood. Percy's mouth screwed into a scowl.

He threw his hand out and the water instantly retreated out of the skiff. He _forced_ the current to stay out of the hole, not taking no as an answer. He drew his cutlass, looking out over the deep blue water. The beast was silent suddenly, unsure of what his prey was doing.

Percy couldn't say he was sure, either. "Row, captain. I'll distract it."

He jumped into the water.

...

Annabeth's progress was painfully slow. She tried all the great tactics, of course. Rowing to heartbeat didn't work because it was going too fast. Her humming was off, and she started drifting a bit too far left. It… Her mind wasn't in it.

She was still thinking about Percy.

She was still thinking about the storm.

She hadn't been completely honest with Percy before, and really he never asked. And by no means would she bring it up in passing fancy. Annabeth couldn't stand to even _look_ at a storm, much less sail into one. Even when she Captained the _Athena,_ she steered clear of every dark cloud she saw.

But now the memories were back, and they were not going away. "Goddesses, m-mermaids and sirens, tra-tra-tra-trembling in our wake." She muttered under her breath, trying to counteract the sudden well of tears her eyes were becoming.

 _The ocean, roiling and turning under the_ Odyssey _, heaving sea water onboard…_

"W-Whether on the highest tide, or the lowes-s-st shallows, we, as w-women, declare our secession from those that have… have wronged us." She kept going, trying to shake her head clear. She tried imagining her mother smiling at her, but terror kept her focus on anything _besides_ calm and gentle smiles.

 _A little blonde girl, carelessly putting her arms up to shield her from the rain. Another wave plowed into the skiff, tossing her overboard. The other girl she sailed with, crying out in desperation…_

"We shall not make the same mistake, as… as our fathers b-before us. We move back to the seas in search of betterment, hoping that… we will find not only what we seek, but what we cannot yet think to see." She finished, continually rowing forward. Her arms heaved in desperation, and her body gasped for air when the memories kept trying to destroy her.

 _She wasn't strong enough. Her little hands had latched onto the cold, slippery planks of wood, but she couldn't hoist herself over. She cried over and over for help, but the only answer she received was the unforgiving explosions of thunder…_

Annabeth couldn't move anymore. Her figure collapsed onto the floorboards of the skiff that wasn't even big enough to house two people. Her hands covered her face and her cries of sorrow echoed out over the ocean. She was curled up in a ball, a mirror image of the twelve year old who thought she could beat a corrupt system.

 _A scared, stupid little girl…_

Percy was dead by now, surely. Whatever creature he'd gone to face now probably had swallowed him whole. She hoped that was the case, truly. The last thing she wanted was to see was bits of that poor, poor boy adrift at sea…

And what would happen next? She would join him. The devil spawn sent to kill them would finish her and the skiff off with one mighty gulp. She was done for. Minced meat. A sheep in a slaughterhouse. She sobbed again.

Luke should've killed her with the _Athena._ Her father should've had the guts to shoot her himself. She should've let the prostitutes turn her in. A death on the open sea like this was the worst thing she could think of.

She was truly alone…

Alone…

The moon shone brighter for a moment. A silvery crescent shining on a canvas of black. It's light brought forth a new presence… Something comforting as Annabeth lay down in despair.

" _Goddesses, mermaids, and sirens, trembling in our wake."_

The mantra washed into Annabeth's very soul, engraving the soft, yet angry tone of Thalia's voice into her mind.

" _Whether on the HIGHEST tide, or LOWEST shallows, we declare our secession from those that have wronged US."_

Annabeth nodded to herself, listening to her best friend's voice. It felt like yesterday that… That they'd done it. They'd purchased a retired trade ship and managed to make a worthy fighting vessel. That they'd surpassed their original vision of being a band of misfits on the open ocean.

That instead they'd become a family.

" _We shall NOT make the same mistake as our fathers before us, we move back to the sea in search of betterment, hoping that we will find not only what we seek, but what we cannot yet think to see."_

Annabeth's sobbing turned to sniveling. She sat up, remembering why they had first made that oath to one another. Family was important. Family was everything. Even when they first began recruiting girls to the cause, it was because each girl _needed_ a home. Castaways and vagabonds. Girls who would rather join them than end up in loveless marriages or sell themselves.

' _We're a family,'_ Thalia had promised. ' _Stronger together than apart.'_

' _But we're apart now!'_ Annabeth screamed in her own head. ' _How am I supposed to ever continue? You were the reason I fought so hard! You pushed me to be a Captain! To be BETTER!'_ She began paddling again, anger driving her. She could already see foamy White Sea where the reef was. ' _How do I recover? Who's going to be there to help me?'_

' _Percy Jackson.'_

Her paddling faltered, and her tear stained eyes began to sting again. She looked towards the black ocean he'd jumped into.

' _He's fighting right now to make sure you start over, you know. He knows next to nothing about you, and he's certainly got better things to be doing,'_ whatever apparition of Thalia had a point, in her mind. That was true. Percy was sacrificing time and effort, just to put up with her squabbling behind. He could be dying right this very second, under the waves.

' _He doesn't have to. He_ killed _you,'_ she thought bitterly.

She could imagine Thalia shaking her head. ' _No Annabeth. His intention was never to lead the_ Athena _to a watery grave. It was a game to him. Childish, but all boys are.'_ Annabeth gave a watery smirk. ' _But nevertheless, he blames himself for our deaths. He's trying to make it up to you, in his own way- surely you didn't think he's following you for no reason?'_

"He wants me to start over." She said aloud, rubbing her eyes like a child to clear them. "To get my reputation back as a fierce pirate."

Thalia's voice suddenly seemed more real. The moon seemed brighter still, near blinding. " _If that's what you believe."_

Annabeth's brow furrowed, because for a second that felt like a _real_ reply: a physical, low and be holding voice from another world giving an honest opinion. But it couldn't possibly…

"Well, what other reason could he-?"

" _Goodbye, Annie. Please, stay safe. I don't want you joining me just yet…"_

Annabeth's gaze snapped skyward, toward the moon that was already beginning to dim. The light from before was leaving. "WAIT! THALIA!" She screamed, reaching towards the stars above her head as if she could catch her best friend. "PLEASE! Don't leave yet!"

The light of the moon twinkled, but soon vanished.

Annabeth looked around her, realizing that the water around her was not so deep. She'd long passed the reef, and now the island was laid out before her. Already, she could see the strip of sand and the tree line after it.

Still, even with such a beautiful sight ahead of her, her head turned back towards danger.

The black water, no doubt full of blood. She paled at the thought of it being her first mate's, but didn't rule it out as a possibility. The stillness of the water was unnerving, and the silence worse. No wind, no current. Only the void.

She turned around and began paddling back out to sea.

* * *

 **Read and Review!**

 **LHG :)**


	10. The Dead Moon's Advice

**Hey Guys! So, glad to see I'm getting some headway in this story... kinda. Look, its a start. I'm still writing, trying to figure out what I'm looking for...**

 **Anyways, I'm putting this chapter up early because:**

 **A) I wanted to.**

 **B) I need your help.**

 **I want you guys, the readers, to tell me what you like, what you don't like, etc... This isn't all about me trying to become a better writer. Its about you guys getting the best from this story, and pushing me past the barriers I've somehow set for myself. Tell me what you want me to do, how to do it... Just no Lemons. I don't write Lemons, eck. If you're into that, no offense plz. I just don't think that's cool... Anyways, PM me, leave a review, etc. Whatever you want to throw in. I always leave a shout out for those who give me ideas!**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.**

* * *

It was like fighting the ocean itself.

Normally, Percy gained strength underwater. Along with sight, hearing, and even a sense of smell. He'd never tried taste, but that could be for another day, if he survived.

Dark water was sometimes shadowed by dark skin, but Percy couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, sixty feet couldn't be far off. It was a brute, all right. Why it ventured so far from below, Percy would be okay with never finding out. Like how he couldn't even tell what it _was._

Shadow might've been the best comparison. It was always either just out of his vision, or maybe right in front of him. He would wave his cutlass in a place he thought was beast, but meet no resistance of sword through flesh. He was fighting smoke.

Percy, however, was not totally without aim.

It was always when the _beast_ attacked that Percy could score a hit. When he'd feel that instinct to dive or resurface, and stab his sword in a random direction. He made three hits, and had to cup his ears each time the beast roared in anger. Blood surrounded Percy like a cloud, hiding him from sight.

Sadly, Percy knew he could not win.

The beast was too big. Its hide was too thick. The creature was tiring him out, and now death would be the next thing to befall him.

 _At least Annabeth made it to shore,_ he thought. He'd felt the skiff grate sand. He knew it was on land. _One death. One death from the_ Athena _that isn't blood on my hands._

The beast charged again, though Percy didn't see as was usual. This time, he pushed himself left, his sword arm trailing behind him.

The creature caught him.

Percy screamed in agony when he felt his leg burst into a new degree of pain he'd never felt before. It was like a thousand needles jabbing into every nerve on his exposed flesh below his waist. This time, it was his blood that stained the ocean around him, not the beast's. Percy was dragged like a ragdoll, being tugged along by the impaled section of his leg.

Percy took no time wasted, stabbing his sword so fast and hard into the maw of whatever the heck it was. When his sword gained purchase below his leg, he viciously swirled the sword as he would a knife to dig out a musket ball.

He was suddenly drifting, his leg coming free. Even so, as the beast screamed, he could sense the smugness. It could feel his despair. Worse still, his sword arm was empty. His precious blade was gone, and now he had nothing to defend himself with. His body felt paralyzed.

The beast was circling below him, savoring his victory. Percy could feel his eyes closing. _This is it…_

" _Percy."_

His eyes shot open faster than a dying boy should be able to because _no,_ that couldn't be her, could it? Surely this was a pre-death hallucination? Could she be greeting him at the doors of death?

"Ma?" He whispered, looking around because _yes_ he's sure it's her. No doubt in his mind. Was it just him, or was the water above him glowing white.

" _My sweet little soldier."_ The voice said, relieved. He could _hear_ the smile in her voice. He could see it in his mind, replayed a million times over. Nothing, no treasure or jewel compared to that smile. Percy gulped, yearning to see it again.

Whatever spirit churned around him seemed to sense his wanting. " _I know, I know. But not yet. Not yet, Percy. You need to get back up there and fight."_

His posture immediately slumped under an invisible weight. His eyes would be wet if he wasn't already surrounded by salt water. "I'm useless, mother. If I can't save you-"

" _Perseus Jackson, hold your tongue. Your mother is speaking to you. You are NOT to blame. Luke killed the crew of the_ Athena, _not you."_

Percy smiled at the sass, knowing this was his mother, well and truly. And for once he could actually hear his mother tell him he was not to blame and _that_ hit him _hard_ because he couldn't see blaming anyone else.

" _She needs you, Percy. Just like I did. What I need you to do is of the utmost importance, do you hear me? For her benefit, and for yours."_

Percy gulped. "But she doesn't need me, mother. She has a chance at-"

" _Pirating isn't what I'm talking about, Perseus. You know that isn't a life. That's a hollow career. A dead end. She needs_ YOU."

Percy frowned, and there was jumbled vibration under the water. He was pretty sure it sounded like a sigh. " _I truly taught you less about this than I should have. Perseus, you will forge that path in time on your own. What I really need is to tell you about your father."_

His leg was numb, the creature was growing antsy, and Percy couldn't care less. His father had just been invoked. "What about him?"

" _He has a job for you. An item you must find for yourself. One with enough power to stop Luke before he controls the seas."_

Percy noticed she'd conveniently left out the facts about where it might be and why Luke might have power over the ocean. Instead, he jumped straight to his first, impulsive thought. "No. Not for him. Nothing for him." He said. If his all-powerful father needed his help, he could kiss his sails. He won't help him.

" _Perseus, it's not for him. It's for you. He's watching over you. You must embrace the part of you that is him. When you do, you will fulfill Annabeth's promise one hundred times over."_

He was going to rebut, but wavered at the mention of of his promise to Annabeth. Whatever ghostly presence surrounding him sensed this. " _It will fulfill her promise, and maybe you'll find yourself at peace as well."_

Percy was quiet for a moment longer. The beast was still below him, but seemed uninterested in whatever aura now surrounded him. It was aggravated, though. Thirsty for blood…

"What do I need to do?" He whispered quietly.

He could imagine the smile still on his mother's face. " _That, I cannot tell you. I can only set you on your path. Continue to the Colonies, as Annabeth directed. Look for an old friend; he will be expecting you."_

Percy nodded to himself, or maybe with his mother. Perhaps this was a hallucination due to blood loss, but Percy wasn't so quick to rule out supernatural forces. After all, he was one.

" _Goodbye Percy. This isn't the last time you'll see me… Just don't be quick to visit, aye?"_

"Wait!" Panic seized his heart. So many things he wanted to say. So much he couldn't express into words.

She understood. She always did. " _Be safe, Percy. I love you…"_

The moon above twinkled out until the ocean was shone grey again. Percy wanted to cry, knowing that she was safe.

Wherever she was, Sally Jackson was safe.

But Percy still wasn't.

The beast had new prey. Far above Percy's head, a skiff was starting to appear. A black shadow on a grey background.

 _Annabeth. ANNABETH._

The predator was moving towards the skiff slowly, as if expecting another blunderbuss incident. And maybe he had a right to fear that skiff, but Percy knew the truth. He knew the truth, but he couldn't believe it.

Without Percy, Annabeth was blind. She wouldn't see an attack coming until it was too late. She be swallowed, crushed, impaled… And she _knew_ that. Why would she _ever_ do something so stupid?

Percy's new anger filled his legs. He wasn't nearly as strong a swimmer as the beast, but he summoned power from the ocean around him. His leg throbbed less as the currents themselves shifted to push him up…

… and force the beast back into the abyss.

Just before it made contact (and Percy means that in a completely literal sense), Percy registered the tugging in his gut. He shot his hand forward and gripped the water into a fist, yanking it back.

The beast was torn off course. Even its emended strength was nothing against the ocean around him. Percy _was_ the ocean. _He_ was in charge, not whatever this thing was. He swore up and down that Annabeth would stay safe as long as he had something to say about it. This was one of those times.

"Leave. Us. _Alone!"_

He yelled in defiance, tossing his hand up towards the surface, and the water complied. The creature was shot like a cannonball from the ocean, leaving a trail of bubbles to follow lethargically afterwards. When it left the ocean, he didn't stay to watch it hit the water again. Instead, he shot himself upwards.

As he left the ocean, he physically felt all the energy leave his body. His aim had been true, however, seeing as he landed face first into the deck of the skiff. Painful, yes, but nowhere near the torture he felt in his leg. Had there been a nest of fire ants out on the sea?

"Good lord!" Annabeth said, and Percy couldn't help but roll his eyes. _That was a long ten minutes._ "Percy, what-?"

"Later." His voice was strained and raw, his stomach wishing to remove any contents it might have at the moment. "Why-?"

He felt himself steadied and two arms locked around his stomach in a death grip. It took him a moment to register that the pain in his leg was still there, and that Annabeth Chase, goddess, captain, and employer, was currently hugging him fiercely. He oddly felt salt water coming from somewhere, giving him a strange feeling. Then he realized Annabeth was crying.

"I- I thought you were dead, a-and… I…" Her grip tightened the slightest bit. Her face remainder buried deep in his chest, and certainly she understood that his heart was going to leap from his chest at any moment. "I've been alone for far too long. Please… Don't leave."

Percy wanted to speak. Really, he did. However, his throat was not so forgiving. For someone who spent a good ten minutes under water, he was parched. When he opened his mouth, a strangled and cracking whimper left him instead. He wrapped his arms around her quivering form instead.

There was something special about holding someone like this, Percy knew. His mother was a prime example of giving affection and love in terrible situations. That wasn't to say that was the scenario at the moment, per say; what he really felt was a surge of devotion towards this girl.

This girl. The one who he'd robbed, lead into a deathtrap, rescued from said deathtrap, kissed, been tied to a mast by, sailed through a storm with and fought a shadow under the sea for. He might've tightened his own embrace on her.

When they did break away, Percy realized that his leg wasn't hurting anymore. Looking towards the wound, his eyes widened.

Because the wound was gone. Sealed. Completely and utterly healed. The only sign that he hadn't been dreaming was the missing part of his breeches and coat, and the eight inch tooth sitting beside his leg.

He cast a wary glance at the ocean, sighing. His mother's words replayed in his own mind over and over again.

 _Father, why come to me now?_

"First question…"

"Hurry it up, Miss Chase. I'd hate to lose track of my bearings out here."

She rolled her eyes, her expression deep in thought as she took her time to think her question through. That was okay with Percy. The ocean around them was calm, and the sky a beautiful canvas of blue and white. Really, it felt like a day to jump into the lagoon back home and take a moment to forget about the taxes they owed and work they had to make up for later.

Naturally, Percy would've been content on the island by the reef, seeing it's crystal clear blue sea and white sand it had to offer, but Annabeth was anxious to leave after repairing the breach in the hull. He'd chosen to leave early instead, seeing her uneasy. Now, to pass the time, they were getting to know one another better. Question by question.

There was only one rule: completely honest answers, and if whatever you asked you had to be equally responsible to give your own answer.

"First impression of meeting me."

Percy frowned. "Which time? Me robbing you, or me rescuing you?"

She scoffed. "Hardly a successful rescue. I had a musket wound, if you recall."

He kept a steady rowing rhythm, freshly rested from the two nights they had spent on the island. Truly, he had needed the rest. His aching muscles felt loose, and his mind clear.

"You were bold. Brave. I had no idea when I boarded your ship the crew were all women. Let alone captained by one." He said. She didn't seem satisfied, though, so he continued. "I figured you were intimidating, as well. A mite scarier than the women from where I lived."

She remained expressionless as she commented. "Only a mite? I must've been going easy on you." He raised an eyebrow, then she rolled her eyes. "Oh, all right. My first impression of you… When you robbed me, mind you… Was that I was scared. All I could see was your eyes, and with the pistol pointed at me… I hadn't been at someone's mercy like that in a long time."

Percy frowned, but chose not to question her further on the subject. She looked a tad reluctant answering this question herself. He asked his own question instead: "how do you know Luke? He seemed… eager. When he caught you, I mean."

Annabeth paused for a moment, coughing lightly into her palm. Her answer was rushed, embarrassed. "I was betrothed to him."

Percy's rowing faltered for a second, looking her in the eye before realizing she was serious. "When was this?"

She avoided his gaze, but answered nonetheless. "He had just been granted the rank of captain at nineteen, which was a feat in itself. He took a fancy to me when my father brought me over from London, and asked for my hand. I was only twelve at the time…"

Percy stopped her, noticing that her cheeks were flushing. "You were twelve. Betrothed at twelve?" He asked, astonished. "No wonder you ran. How soon after…?"

"It was one month after, actually. I met Thalia, who was a local, and we both had nothing left at home. We stole my father's skiff and set out for an adventure." She finished.

Percy couldn't even fathom the idea of running away from home at that age. Twelve… He was just beginning to learn how to heal others. Just starting to follow in his mother's footsteps. And marriage? The farthest thing from his mind. Proper courting would've started at fifteen, maybe, had he stayed on the isle…

"And you?" Annabeth asked, snapping him out of his day dreaming.

"What?" He asked. She rolled her eyes, but did not seem surprised by his lapse in attention.

"Luke. How do you know him?"

Of course. He needed to answer.

"That's… That's a long story." Percy admitted, looking out towards the sea and avoiding her gaze. "One that I'd only feel comfortable talking about on land. And with a keg of rum on hand." He said.

Annabeth shook her head. "The rule, Percy. Give me a simplified version."

Percy shook his own head. "There's no simplifying it. Really, I'll tell you… Just not out here. It's a beautiful day, and I want to keep it that way." He kept rowing, avoiding Annabeth's gaze and listening to the water as it trickled off the paddle and back into the ocean.

"Where did you live? Before pirating, I mean." Annabeth clarified. Percy sighed, this he could answer.

"There was this little Spanish settlement in the chain of islands I first met you. It didn't have a name, or even a dock, really, but it was meant as a place for royalty to live in." Percy shrugged, trying to remember more about it. "No one wanted to live there when they realized what a horrible place it was to live in. Too many storms, not enough sunlight… They abandoned it.

"A few English tradesmen settled down there, and a few generations later I was born." He said.

"What… What were the buildings like?"

Percy raised an eyebrow, but tried to answer best he could. "We had a big courtyard we used for a market. Pillars topped with stucco roofs… Red. It shines red during the day. I swear, it was the most beautiful place on this green Earth."

When he cast a glance at his captain, she had her eyes closed, as if visualizing his home. Percy cocked his head to the side because something about the worry lines disappearing and soft smile on her lips stirred his gut…

"I lived in the English countryside," she started. "It was just me and ma, living on a farm. Really, she never even married my father, but he had escorted her around London when he was a young noble." She explained. "Every morning, ma would milk and I'd carry the pails into the milk house… We kept roosters and hens, and every once in awhile the neighbors would help me hunt eggs." She said.

"We had a small home, and a barn beside it. Mother had an eye for detail, always looking for ways to make home better than it was. She would sew my dresses, and sometimes she'd take me into town. She could rival you in haggling, but never would've been caught dead flirting with any of the stall owners." She finished, a wistful smile still on her face.

"Sounds beautiful." Percy whispered, almost to himself. Annabeth must've heard, because her head ducked at the same time her cheeks began to redden. "Mother's had a way of making us feel at home, aye?" He said, heaving a bit more.

"Aye, I suppose we have that in common." Annabeth repeated, meeting his gaze.

There was moment when all that could be heard was the ocean itself as he matched her gaze. A moment that Percy had to end with a slight cough, like the one she'd given. Perhaps it was something going around.

"What was she like? Your mother." Percy clarified. His nostalgia was beginning to settle in again, and Annabeth had this smile in her eyes every time she mentioned it. That, if anything, was something he could relate to.

But now, the smile she had on before disappeared. She sounded uncertain and shy when she spoke, which was… Unexpected. "She… She was amazing, really. The problem is that there isn't anything to tell. She was a Miller's daughter who sold cloths-"

"Not what she did for a living, Annabeth. What was she like?" He asked.

Still, she struggled to find the right words. Percy didn't even notice they were drifting until the boat began to rock gently from side to side. "She was kind. Loving. Better than my father could ever aspire to be." She decided, tossing in a spiteful comment toward her father for good measure.

Percy had the sneakiness of suspicions about her father. Just the way she spoke about him… And even what she didn't say… Spoke volumes.

Annabeth made a face when seeing his thoughtful expression. "Something wrong, Percy?"

He shook his head to clear it. Thinking about Annabeth Chase was like trying to barter with a stubborn stall owner. Only this time, he couldn't steal an answer. "I… Nothing. Nothing wrong." He coughed again unconvincingly. "My mother was the same."

* * *

 **Read and Review!**

 **LHG :)**


	11. The Unbreakable Ms Chase

**Guys, I would like to take to light what one of my reviewers has brought to light.**

 **I did not write Annabeth as a feminist captain.**

 **There was so much stuff about her being a feminist... I didn't want to write her like that. I'm writing her in a way that reflects her current mental state: Fragile. She's just lost her family, she doesn't know how her mother is doing back in England, or if she's even alive. She blames herself for the death of her crew, she blames herself for everything she's lost. I'm not going to keep her frail and fragile, and she's going to develop to be the confident, witty Annabeth Chase we all know and love. I chose not to write her as a feminist because she is above thinking _all_ men are evil, as Percy is supposed to keep proving as the story progresses.**

 **Please, have patience with this story. I'm trying to make it unique, and I didn't want to envision Annabeth as a feminist, just like how I didn't want Percy to be the perfect pirate or have a good relationship with his real dad. She's going to start being more independent soon, I swear. Just wait until the next chapter, plz.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not Rick.**

* * *

"Where in blazes did this come from?"

Annabeth was poised attentively at the bow, looking out at the fog that had surrounded them. She'd initially seen the wisps a long while ago, but chose not to wake her sleeping companion. Hearing his voice might've startled her before, but now it was an integrated part of her new life. The one where he could be there, till she said otherwise.

She had lit the lantern the moment the wall of grey had swallowed them whole, knowing that if Percy had done so she would've scolded him. It did nearly nothing, and looking behind her she wasn't surprised all she could make out of Percy was his silhouette. _Barely five feet,_ she thought.

"We entered about an hour ago." She said, turning to sit facing him. "Now I'm waiting for us to leave it." She said, still pouring over an array of charts and navigation equipment (all useless in the fog). She understood Percy had perfect bearings at sea, but… She couldn't be completely dependent on that. A chart and a compass any day would suffice.

Percy stood carefully, rocking the boat slightly as he did. When he had reached full height, he turned in a full circle, looking for who knows what? There were certain habits sailors get after a long career at sea. Annabeth would develop an itch on her right calf after a full twenty four hour period on the open ocean, and she'd noticed Percy enjoyed just looking at the open sea around. She supposed it was his element, after all.

When he spoke, she could hear the frown in his voice. "I can't see."

She rolled her eyes. "Quite the deduction, sailor."

"Oh, shut it." He said, sitting back down. He'd long taken off his torn coat, choosing instead to use it as a pillow. Annabeth had noticed his anger at the torn coat on the island, and he had commented that it had been his father's.

Which confused her more, of course, about her first mate's lineage.

She realized she's been staring at his still form and looked away, blushing like a _girl._ Something about this boy left her giddy and confused and really, he was such a bother sometimes, so why was it she was annoyed she couldn't see him as clearly as she would like?

"How long have you been up?" He asked. He sat up again when she didn't speak, the guilty silence building. "How long was I asleep?"

"Sun set about an hour ago." Annabeth admitted, stowing her chart and compass. "I wasn't too tired, so I assumed you wouldn't mind another few hours of rest."

Percy shook his head, tossing his coat towards her. She caught the heavy leather with ease, feeling the warm material against her cold skin. "Take a rest, Annabeth. I'd rather be awake and rowing than sleeping on the ocean any time of day."

"It's nighttime." She said bluntly.

"Don't get smart with me." He warned. He began to adjust the sail slightly to the left, trying to get a breeze to enter the fabric. "Sleep. I'll actually wake you when I'm _supposed_ to." He teased.

Annabeth chose to let him win, she swears. Not because her eyelids began to fall, or because she couldn't think of a better line. She crushed the coat into a ball, taking off her hat and setting it off to the side. When she rested her head against it, smelling the lingering scent of saltwater (as if it wasn't all around her) she hummed in satisfaction before listening to the sail filling with wind.

…

She heard him curse first.

She wasn't quite awake yet, so she dismissed the subconscious intrusion and whatever dream she might've been having continued. The realm of sleep felt more appealing at the moment, much more so than waking after what felt like minutes of rest.

When he cursed again, however, she shifted. She rolled her still closed eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

Then she was doused.

She sat up, sputtering and let out a few choice words that would've made Thalia blush. As she propped herself up on her elbows, her angry gaze turned on her first mate.

It was hard to see him, the way the wind was blowing in her face, and the mist was still very much in the way. The only indication that they were on the ocean was the sea lapping onto her face.

Percy was holding onto the rope to the sail in one hand, and in the other he was clutching onto the ship's siding. His face was in a scowl, and his shirt was as doused as she was. He appeared to be struggling to remain upright. As Annabeth stood, she noticed why.

"You idiot! Why are we sideways to the waves?" She said, pulling at one of the oars that was barely hanging onto the boat. She'd have to paddle them out of this mess if she wanted to get this water out of the boat anytime soon. She pulled at the oar and-

And it was broken. Halfway up the shaft the wood had splintered, and the paddle of the oar was nowhere to be found. Annabeth looked towards the other oar and found it in the same predicament. Both of the oars were broken.

"We're in some sort of reef." Percy explained, the wind and crashing of water trying to drown out his words. He kept his grip on the side of the boat, his knuckles white against the wood. Water lapped up his arm as if got onboard. "We sailed into it a moment ago, and I'm trying _really_ hard to focus, so please don't hinder me." He requested through gritted teeth.

Annabeth felt helpless. She'd never navigated a skiff through a reef, and now she was being splashed and covered head to toe in water. The mist was relentless, making it impossible to see even five feet in each direction.

Annabeth turned back to Percy, about to ask him what to do. But she realized that maybe wasn't the best course of action, seeing as he was concentrating so hard on the task at hand. She could vaguely see now that his eyes were shut tight, and sweat gathered on his forehead. He was going by power alone, trying to keep them from being bashed against whatever maze they were in.

But still his power was not enough. She could see his mind slipping, and she felt the first collision jar her to the bone. She sat down hard on the bench.

 _Why am I so USELESS?!_ She thought angrily. Here she was, sitting and doing nothing while Percy did all the work. What kind of captain was she? How could she _ever_ be better when Percy had those powers?

Another collision. Annabeth didn't bother standing back up.

Why should she?

" _Annabeth, what wins a fight?"_

Her mother's voice slowed the world around her. It always did, especially when a memory surfaced.

She was seven, and that big ugly brute down the street had ambushed her _again,_ taking that hard earned shilling Annabeth always made when helping their neighbor, Terry Minus, sort out his stock rooms for the coming winter.

Annabeth's mother, the ever so vigilant woman she was, had noticed the tear stains that Annabeth had been so keen to hide.

Annabeth had been confused. Was her mother saying that she should fight? Why say that word at all? He was bigger and older. Of course he would win.

" _Bigger kids."_ She pouted, looking at her feet. Her mother had leaned eye level to her daughter, lifting her chin with two fingers.

" _No, honey. Not 'who'. Bigger kids don't win fights. You could beat them if you wanted to."_ She said. She'd picked up her little curious child, sitting her down on her lap. " _They might look tough, sweetie, but they don't know how else to act. That's why I'm going to tell you the secret to winning. Not just against them, but against everything else, too."_

Little Annabeth had been intrigued, wondering what could such a weapon possibly be called. What magic did it conjure, to beat kids twice her size? " _What is it?"_

She'd smiled, tapping a finger to Annabeth's temple. " _Your own head, Annabeth. If you put enough thought into the problem, I bet you can find the solution yourself."_

Annabeth had used those words like a bible verse, and never again did that boy, Dylan, ever take her shilling again.

Annabeth had the mind that, when set to solve a problem, never stopped. She could be that person again.

Fear had been keeping her grounded into her seven year old self, telling her that she had no other choice. Annabeth _knew_ that was a lie. She was Annabeth Chase, Pirate Captain of the seven seas. She was Annabeth Chase, scourge of the king's navy. She was Annabeth Chase, daughter to a loving mother who made her proud to be herself.

The world around her returned to color and her senses sharpened. She took a deep breath. _Think._

Her hands worked in complete synchronization with her head, taking the two wooden shafts of broken oars. She knew the sturdiness was sound, and the length was perfect for what she had in mind. She pulled out her oil lantern and lit the wick with care. A dull glow covered the mist in golden light. The light gave her comfort in the dark.

She sat back at the front, her arms free and legs hooked under the nearest rowing bench. Each hand held an oar shaft.

She closed her eyes, mimicking Percy for a moment. _Please, help me._ She thought to anyone who would listen.

With the dull glow, and her own experience at sea, she reached out with her sense of hearing. Water rushed past, trying to slow them and keep the in the maze. But Annabeth could get them through.

Her right ear pricked, and her right arm responded.

The resistance against her arm sent a thrill down her spine, and the noise of wood on wet rock was a reward in itself. She used all the strength she had to push the skiff away from the rock.

She didn't have time to celebrate though, seeing as there was more work to be done. The next few minutes were of complete concentration and skill as she helped maneuver the skiff out of the reef maze. Her own hands were starting to tremble in the dark, and sweat gathered on her brow. Cold ocean water left a salty taste on her lips when she was splashed a dozen or so times.

Still, she stayed firm at the head, keeping her ears pricked for danger.

When the rough water around her began to give way to gentle waves, she dropped the oars and her own tired form into the rowing bench. Her weary grin was ear to ear, and her breath left her body in short pants. "Beat that, Jackson." She whispered.

The boy in question gave no answer, but his breath sounded nearly as ragged. Then, ever so carefully, she craned her neck from where she lay to get a look at him.

He was already already staring back, his chest rising and falling in a way that made Annabeth's stomach turn for some odd reason. She felt something burning in her chest, and sat up, dragging herself closer to him.

She made it to his side, and her eyes never left his. She searched his expression, looking for that scoundrel that had boarded the _Athena_ some odd month ago. She only saw the boy who wanted to practice medicine.

His shirt was horribly wrinkled, to which her mother _and_ father would've wrinkled their noses at. His hair was a slick mess, and a fuzzy black wad of fur was sprouting on his cheeks and on his chin. His hand still clutched the siding for leverage, as if to give him strength. For what, she wanted to guess it was because of her.

She didn't utter a word, though she expected he still heard what she wanted him to. Gently and carefully, she laid her head down against his chest with her ear to his heart. The rhythmic _bump-bump_ stayed undeterred, and the sound was soothing to Annabeth.

She had never shared a living space or bed with anyone besides Thalia, but that was a younger, simpler and innocent time. Her cabin in the ship had been cozy, and Annabeth had done her best to make it a home, but it lacked comfort. Now here she was, on a ten foot skiff with this _idiot,_ and she found herself wanting to get closer than she'd ever had.

She shifted closer, her shirt slipping a bit off of her shoulder. It wasn't until she was nearly curled completely into him that he responded in kind. His left hand barely moved under her, but he adjusted her sleeve ever so slightly, so that it covered her shoulder more effectively. Then, as if he were a boy that had taken a fancy to her, he gently and hesitantly placed said hand in between her shoulder blades.

The warmth of his hand and chest made her sigh lightly, a puff of air that sent a curl or two jumping. His other hand relaxed, wrapping around until it had found a spot on her lower back as well. She was now completely trapped in this boy's embrace.

For some odd reason, she felt comfortable there, as if she fit. She was completely at peace.

"Wait, what did you say?" He whispered.

She rolled her eyes, though she didn't mind so much for his idiocy, seeing as she was hiding a grin in his shirt.

* * *

 **LHG :)**


	12. The Jungle

**Hey Guys! Christmas update! I've been writing this story on and off again, but I though those waiting deserved another chapter. I'll try putting more attention to here.**

 **Disclaimer : I'm not Rick.**

* * *

Percy had to sit up slowly, so as not to wake her.

Truth be told, his past relationship record was lacking, between the running and pillaging and the like. Really, his kind of piracy was full time work, and a woman would only complicate things. He couldn't stand to see the worry on their face, or for him to constantly be beating himself up about not going into port to meet up with whoever he wanted to be with.

Rum, ships, and the open sea any day of the week. Every time he was given a choice.

And then _this_ Annabeth had to appear again.

He could not deny the… Stirrings he had felt since the kiss. He could count on his fingers how many times that Annabeth had chosen to be fearless since her capture, and now he was proud to say that defiant look that had been in her eye since he first pointed a gun at her head was back. It had been quite the sight, looking at her stare down the ocean itself.

(Percy might even say he would've placed his wages behind her.)

And then with her looking at him like _that_ after clearing the maze, well… He had certainly been surprised. She had said something, though he didn't know what it had been. Then she'd simply laid beside him, as if saying ' _you are going to hold me, and you are going to like it'._

Really, what had made her think he wouldn't have?

But now was the morning after, and the strange energy that had kept Percy alive was gone, along with his courage. He was back to being Percy Jackson, self-proclaimed swashbuckler and first mate to the strangest woman he'd ever known. He was the Percy Jackson with no knowledge of what a girl like her would want.

He shifted the half of her that was on him carefully to the side, until her whole body hovered over the wood of the rowing bench. Before he could put her down, he hesitated. Should he really just leave her resting against the rough, dry wood? Would that be fair or right to do such a thing? Would that send the right message?

Good lord, he sounded like a star crossed lover. What was she doing to him?

Still, while the seagulls crowed above him and the sea pitched beneath him, he gently tucked a blanket under her and had her curl up so that she wouldn't wake with a sore back.

Then, satisfied he'd done a good job, he began to scan the horizon.

Only his vision was obscured by the trees not ten feet away.

His confusion was momentary as he pieced it all together. The skiff had landed on some sort of island, not unlike the one the two had occupied after the creature had left. He tried not to feel embarrassed, especially since his only companion was fast asleep still, but a blush crept up his face nonetheless.

Trees stretched from a dozen kilometers in each direction, accompanied by yellow sands and tall palm trees. The sky was cloudy, though the mist was gone, so Percy could remain content. _Supplies,_ he thought suddenly. _I could actually cook a warm meal tonight…_

He hopped gracefully out of the skiff, heaving it farther onto land lest it should wash back out to sea with the tide. Then Annabeth would either flay him alive, or she'd be too busy laughing at him. Really, it depended on which Annabeth Chase woke up.

He shimmied up a few palm trees, collecting the semi-ripe fruit at the top and letting them drop to the sand and grass below him. He wasn't much for the taste, in all honesty, but they'd fetch a modest price in the colonies. And between starving and eating a coconut, he'd swallow his distaste and choose the coconut.

Scavenging was an easy task, but he wished to stay near the beach as much as possible. And not because he wanted Annabeth to wake with him near, shut it. If anything it was because he'd removed his boots.

He caught a few sand crabs, though they were camouflaged well in the dry sands. But accidentally stepping on them always gave Percy an easy meal. Or a firm pinch to the toe.

He set about filtering the salt from the water, keeping the two products for whatever purposes they'd be most useful for. Perhaps, when he'd long retired from pirating, he could be a salt merchant, curing and selling it in the local market. He smiled at the thought.

Luke Castellan would have to die first, of course.

As he sat, pondering a future he might or might not have, his companion on the skiff stirred.

Annabeth shifted slightly, as if trying to get more comfortable with where she was. Percy understood, seeing as the skiff was not an accommodating sleeping arrangement, that discomfort was to be expected. The blanket under her was probably sweltering, trapping in the heat as well. That wouldn't be pleasant.

After she continued to shift for a few minutes and Percy realized he'd been staring, her eyes popped open. Percy immediately ripped his gaze away, toying with a length of rope right beside him.

From the corner of his eye he saw her sit up and blink, analyzing the world around her. Her eyes scanned the neat pile of coconuts, the large jar of salt and the flask of water, and finally landed on Percy fiddling with his length of rope.

He coughed, then looked over at her, pretending that he hadn't been staring at her like a lovesick bull only moments before. "Oh, good." He said, going to stand. "You're up."

She didn't respond, instead stretching her arms skyward and yawning quietly. Percy was reminded of the stray cats that roamed the streets of his old home, and that wasn't helping him feel better about his Annabeth situation.

He knew that things would be different now, but he wasn't sure how. _Annabeth situation_ seemed like the best way to put it, he supposed.

When she had finished stretching she stood from the skiff and made her way back onto land. Her legs were as accustomed to his when it came to going to and fro land and sea, so she her steps didn't falter. She continued forward from the beach until she stood at the very edge of the dense foliage.

She stood there for a moment or two, and with Percy forgetting that he should not be staring he openly gave his companion a curious stare. She noticed, apparently.

"Like what you see, Mr. Jackson?"

Percy quickly looked away, looking back out towards the ocean and trying to distract himself with the endless waves. He let his mind tug at the water, and the water in turn tugged back at his gut. He gathered his thoughts before answering. "Captain?" He asked, his heart pumping at the thought of her seeing him looking.

"The island, Percy. Is it safe?" She asked, clarifying her question. Her answer would've been more comforting to Percy, but he could also hear the slightest change in her tone, indicating she was grinning in what he could only assume was evilly.

Percy chose to turn back to the sea, but spoke over the waves so she could hear him. "Hard to say. It's rather big, from what I could gather. The currents must've pushed us through, of that I'm sure, after we…" He coughed again. ' _Smooth, Jackson,'_ a voice that sounded suspiciously like his childhood friend said. ' _Always the ladies man.'_ "... fell asleep." He winced. "If it's all the same to you, Captain, I feel that we should rest her for the day, and continue when night falls. I've already started to gather supplies." He said.

He didn't see her do it, but the sound of leather against coconut echoed to his ears as she kicked the fruit. "I can see that." She said, and still he could hear that smile in her voice. "Very well. I expect a meal ready by the time I get back."

Percy's head snapped back when what she'd said had gone through his mind. Already he could see her taking a few steps further into the jungle. "What?" He asked. He stood quickly, kicking up sand into the air as he began to follow after her, barefoot. He stepped on a sharp weed in his first few steps and winced. "Annabeth, lets make a plan here first!"

Her head turned over her shoulder and Percy could see that smile that he knew had been there the whole time. Her arms swung leisurely at her sides as she continued further into the jungle. "I already said you were making supper, did I not? I'll be back before it's done." She assured him.

"Annabeth!" He said, his gaze switching between his supplies and his Captain's retreating figure. He looked helplessly at his bootless feet, and made a split second decision. He ran back to the skiff and pulled his boots back on, hopping on one foot at a time towards the forest. "Wait for me!"

After a bit of cursing and a thorn in between his toes, Percy managed to get both his boots on. He started to jog deeper into the underbrush, over trees and through tall grass in search of wherever his Captain might've gone. He reached a wide open, grassy hill, but even looking around from there was nearly impossible. The jungle was too thick, and she'd had too good of a head start.

He debated whether it would be a good idea to climb a tree, but he decided that the jungle was too thick. She was already lost, far ahead of him.

"You're going to be the death of me, Miss Chase." He muttered to himself.

He turned back and away from the hill and began to walk back towards the beach.

…

Annabeth wasn't stupid.

She knew that wandering into any jungle without knowing where she was going was a bad idea, and she also knew that these islands could be infested with creatures like the one Percy had so willingly dived into the water to fight. It wasn't stupidity that drove her to seek out a new adventure.

Two things caused her to stray away from Percy:

She had been on this very island before, she was sure. Her crew had left a cache of weapons and ammunition here.

She needed to get away from Perseus Jackson.

Not in the way she had thought of before. Perseus Jackson would continue to serve under her flag, and maybe stay as first mate even. She trusted him.

But there was the rub.

She _trusted_ him.

 _She_ trusted _him._

She was becoming too dependent. She was going against what her sisterhood once was. It wasn't that they were against men- they certainly were not. But the people that thought of her as lesser? Well, they had to be given a demonstration to shatter their illusions. Annabeth was happy to oblige.

Percy treated her her like an equal- nay, as his _superior._

She'd been weak, letting him take point. Perhaps she had an excuse (the fresh wound of her ship sinking and crew dying) but to her that couldn't be enough. Her confidence had been slacking. Her infatuation with this boy had been growing (as a real woman she could admit that to herself) with no end in sight, lest she stop it herself.

 _Crying_ with a boy beside her? _Sleeping_ with a boy beside her?

She was trapping herself, and a long walk into the jungle would clear her head enough to get her to think of a way out of it.

She took each step carefully, seeing as there was no noticeable path to walk on. It was long, tropical grass and green, leafy bushes. She had to backstep three different times, making sure she was heading in the right direction of the cache. For just a moment she wished that Fiona- her traker -were here, but then wiped that memory from her thought. old wounds reopening would not clear her head.

She knew that they had to be careful leaving markers, just in case anyone else were to see them and rob her crew blind. She left a mixture of marks, such as cuttings in trees, piles of rocks and rotting wood, even a smudge or two of paint.

And the idea was: If you could see any of the markers, you were going in the wrong direction. The path wasn't marked, but everything else was. She felt very proud of herself, coming up with that.

So, after a solid ten minutes without seeing a single marking, she saw the clearing that they'd buried their weapons in. She felt slightly triumphant, a thrill going down her spine. It was like the books and stories her mother read: Buried treasure and pirate's gold.

Thinking a bit about it, she probably left some money down there as well. Did it count if you dug up your own buried treasure?

She only had a shovel tucked into the back of her trousers for the bathroom, but it would have to do. She got down on her knees and began to dig.

…

It took three hours to do it alone. She was covered in dirt and clay, her clothes were a bit muddy from the wet soil, and her arms were bone tired. Her legs were trembling, trying to keep her from falling over. Digging out the chest had been easy, seeing as they'd kept the wooden munitions crate only four or five feet below the surface.

It was difficult lifting the box out, so she'd had to transfer the contents of the box- A sack of silver, half a dozen rifles and a handful of flintlocks with their respective ammunition -and then move the equipment back into the crate. Oh, it had been difficult. In fact, she had no idea how she would get it back onto the beach, but she'd done it. She'd unburied and hauled a chest as big as her back to the surface on her own.

She hadn't smiled as big as she was in a long time.

And yet…

Something in her chest felt hollow. Broken. Different from what it used to feel like. Her smile began to lose it's shine. Her heart felt heavy, remembering who she buried it with. She missed them, wishing she could forget, or that they could still be with her. Anything that could connect her and her past life.

" _Ghosts, just beyond the fog… it's maddening."_

Percy's words echoed in her head. She frowned, remembering the burning liquid going down her throat. Percy had warned her about this. He'd understood this. She wondered how. Who had _he_ lost? When?

Annabeth stood, picking up the silver and a stuffed a few flintlocks in her belt. She'd come back for the rest later.

…

Percy was starting to feel agitated. And not just because his meal of cooked sand crab and mango was going cold.

He'd already estimated that Annabeth had woken and left closer to noon than sunrise, so he'd assumed she'd be back a little after the sun would start to drop from the sky. He'd taken his time to gather wood, start a fire, and pull out the few spices and herbs he kept on his skiff.

The sun was four finger lengths above the water now. Whatever 'short walk' she'd been taking had stretched long over six hours now. Percy was used to long waits and taking time to himself, but there were only so many knots he could tie with a short length of rope. He was on his fifth noose before he had finally thrown the rope back into the boat, packed away all of his cooking things, stomped out the fire and began jogging through the woods.

Percy was no tracker. He was not made for land, especially if he hadn't lived in a certain place for too long. Heck, even when Percy had been thirteen he still got lost going through his town. It had eight streets. _Eight._

Percy brought his cupped hands up to his mouth, still walking through the thick jungle. "ANNABETH!" He yelled, looking around and listening for some kind of answer.

He didn't hear anything.

"ANNABETH! ANNABETH!" He continued, going around the island and searching. He had assumed this landmass was bigger than the common chain islands he'd grown up in, but now he couldn't be sure. In fact, after tripping over vines and smashing through dense foliage only to be smacked by tree branches (multiple times) did Percy finally huff, turning around and-

He forgot which way he had gone.

He cursed silently, frowning and removing his hat to wipe away the sweat congealing on his brow. The jungle was hot and muggy, a horrible change from what the ocean offered, with it's wide open spaces and cool breezes. He sighed, continuing onward. Surely, the island couldn't be that big.

…

Percy didn't think he'd be getting his mango and sand crab dinner tonight.

The sun had long ago set, taking the unpleasant experience of trudging through the jungle and turning it deadly. He'd long ago lost his bearings, and the clouds above were just as dark as the night before. He'd been walking for an hour now, and the when the sun had set his stomach had dropped with it.

He'd stopped shouting for Annabeth's name, instead choosing to remain silent and scared of the darkness that was completely covering the world around him. His eyes shifted uncomfortably between the trees, expecting danger. He was _scared,_ and in his mind it would be stupid not to be.

He continued forward, but now he was going much slower, making sure not to so much as step on a twig. Something chittered above him, leathery wings flapping and coming to rest again. Percy froze, looking around and waiting for something to attack him.

Man, he wished he'd brought his lantern. He'd give his left arm for a flame to light the way in front of him. How could Annabeth even consider going on a walk into a thick jungle when she hadn't ever been to the island before?

Now, they were probably both lost.

Or worse, he was going to get back to the beach and see her there, waiting for him. More snappy remarks to follow. She wouldn't let him go without teasing him.

(In all reality, Percy could care less about taunts from his captain. Just get him out of this forsaken jungle and let him find the beach.)

He was just about to climb a tree and bed down for the night when his head snapped to attention. Somewhere off to his left, a branch snapped. Percy frowned, reaching into his belt and pulling out his flintlock. His eyes shifted towards the trees, scanning the darkness. His gaze was taken by movement off to the left. He saw something shimmer in the foliage.

Just as he was about to decide between running or climbing up the nearest tree, a loud, boisterous laugh penetrated the sky, piercing through the jungle like a musket shot. The noise made him shiver, the obvious drunkenness painfully present. Whatever had been in front of him must've moved off, because Percy couldn't see it anymore.

Percy turned back towards where the laugh had been, nearly on the opposite side of where he'd heard… whatever it was. He squinted, almost certain he could see the orange light of a fire in peaking through the forest.

Without any hesitation, Percy started walking towards the light.

* * *

 **Hope you all have a happy holiday season!**

 **LHG :)**


End file.
